


Made with Love, LV and Dust

by Lovova



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suicidal Thoughts, This will likely get dark friends please protect yourself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-06-24 14:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15632127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovova/pseuds/Lovova
Summary: Everyone knows you're not supposed to date Sans the Skeleton. Not if you want to live to see the next year. The monsters of the Underground have all heard the rumor of the cursed skeleton: the people of Snowdin have personally seen the lethal effects of the curse play out over and over. Even Sans himself knows that his love is a death sentence, and is quick to warn others away.But Papyrus, newly appointed guardsman and protector of Snowdin, won't hear any of it.He's in love. That's simply all there is too it.





	1. Look,

**Author's Note:**

> I read the following blog post: http://symphysins.tumblr.com/post/173505301421/idea-that-i-like-but-dont-know-how-to-translate, by excellent artist and blogger Symphysins, and just sorta fell a little bit in love with the idea. So I figured I'd try my hand at it. It's been a long time since I wrote anything the intention of posting it, and am a little worried I'll prove painfully rusty, but it was still lovely to stretch my Undertale muscles again. I had a lot of fun with this.
> 
> I can't see this being terribly long, but assume to see a new chapter up sooner rather then later. And, for anyone not familiar with my other works; um, just understand that this is likely going to get dark. If you're sensitive to that sort of thing, this really might not be your thing, and its totally understandable for you to ignore this story and move on.
> 
> For everyone else... enjoy =)

The first time it happened, it was a tragedy.

-

Sans was fourteen. It wasn't his first crush: it wasn't even his most passionate crush by that point.

(that distinction belonged to a chubby but friendly fish monster that had been in the fourth grade when Sans was in the third grade. He had randomly shared his lunch with Sans one day and the young skeleton had been immediately smitten. Sans had made it known to everyone, his friends, his classmates, even the teachers, how he was going to marry that cute friendly fish monster from the next class over when he grew up. The crush lasted a short period of time and Sans never even found out the name of his future husband, and eventually he forgot he had ever had the crush the first place. The boy, when he became a man, fit and quiet, in the royal guard, would be one day reminded of the incident by his mother, and would feel a mixture of horror and relief at the bullet he had dodged.)

But this crush was important, because it was the first time in his life where he had been able to express it in, more or less, a non cringe-inducing way (always a big first for any teenager in the making); just quietly confessing his feelings to the monster one day, and astonishingly enough, having them reciprocated! Froggit (Froggit Bend, specifically. If you didn't learn a Froggit's middle name, you were likely to constantly get them confused with their dozens of cousins and siblings, all who were also named Froggit. It was a family tradition. Such a thing was common, in the Underground. Monsters are bad at names.) had been a handsome but gentle teen monster that had gone out of their way to be nice to Sans, who had been growing uncomfortable with a body that seemed determined to keep every ounce of magic baby fat while all of his classmates were shooting up and slimming down from sudden growth spurts. Sans had been thrilled when Froggit had accepted his invitation to go down to the dump to hunt for a movie to watch together, and it wasn't very long after that the two were a 'thing'.

They held hands. They sat together at lunch. Sans told Froggit small jokes that got big, hearty laughs, and Froggit would talk for hours at the wonders of life, and the universe, and everything in it, while Sans quietly listened, trying to see the world through his partners amazed eyes. 

Sometimes, he even succeeded. Those were the best times.

The relationship lasted two months. Probably, it wouldn't have lasted past the year. Some insecurity would have dogged at them, some petty fight, maybe just boredom, would have killed it. It was a young relationship, their first, there's no shame in admitting that it likely couldn't have lasted. But it’s still a shame that, for their first relationship, the two monsters couldn't have experienced and learned from their first break-up together. It's a privilege most people don't even recognize they get, but one that still haunts Sans, some nights. Wondering what would have happened.

Had it not been for the fall.

Had it not been for the kiss.

These days the area was known for the Froggit that had fallen and died from its cliff-side, but back then it had been known as a teen makeout spot. The young monsters of Snowdin had all believed, mistakenly, that the forest area around the cliffs were known only to themselves, and so they would sneak away there to do, well, all sorts of things teenagers didn't necessarily want to do with adults around. Sometimes that was smoking. Most of the time it was just to be loud and stupid with friends. But one particular spot, at the highest cliff with this fantastic view of the town far, far below, was known for being where you went when both you and your partner wanted to mack on each other. Sans had mentioned wanting to go as a sort of joke, and had been surprised when Froggit had agreed. They had both been nervous about the trip, and the whole time they walked up to it they egged each other on, teasing and prodding, as if they were playing some elaborate game of chicken, waiting to see which one of them would bail out on it.

But the game went on right to the top of the cliff. And once they were there, the two monsters had spent several moments trying to look at the view but mostly looking at their feet and stealing glances at each other, wondering if they were actually going to do it. Wondering -how- they were going to do it? It would be both of their first kiss. Neither had any idea how to initiate it.

After awhile, Froggit had, very gently, asked Sans if he'd prefer they just head back down the cliff. There was no pressure to stay. It had been a nice walk, and it could just be that. They didn't have to do anything. Not if Sans didn't want too.

And Sans, soul pounding in his chest, had leaned over and kissed Froggit on the lips.

It had barely been a peck. Sans had immediately curled into his knees and put his head in his hands, his entire body blushing blue from top to bottom, thoroughly embarrassed as Froggit, in turn, a bright, almost burning red to their cheeks, grinned from ear to ear. Sans apologized and Froggit told him not too. Sans, grinning widely behind his hands, asked if it had been okay, and Froggit had giggled. This in turn seemed to only make Sans flush harder, which made Froggit laugh harder.

“I hate you,” Sans had groaned, though he was still beaming, looking at Froggit from between his fingers, “Stop laughing. You're the worst.”

“That's a shame,” Froggit had laughed, staring at the setting sun with this dazzling, happy look in their eyes, “Because I think I love you.”

Sans laughed, and then groaned, grabbing a fistful of snow from the ground and putting it against his face, desperately trying to cool the heat rushing from his face as Froggit laughed as well. “Are you okay?” Froggit finally asked, as Sans rubbed more snow on his burning face.

“Yeah, yes, I mean,” Sans stood up, a little wobbly on his feet, and said, “look, uh, give me five second to compose myself, I guess, I mean...look, I'll be right back, I'm just gonna shove my entire face into snow over in the shade, and then when I'm done feeling like an idiot, I'll come back and uh...we could..do that,” Sans said, backing up a few steps, grinning so much his face hurt, “some more? Maybe?”

“After you shoving your face into the snow? It'll be like kissing a Popsicle. I'm...weirdly into it.” Froggit said, giving Sans a wink with one of their wide eyes, and Sans face once again lit up like it was on fire, the small skeleton stumbling away.

He wasn't actually going to shove his head into snow, but he had genuinely needed a moment to catch his breath. He hadn't expected to feel as overwhelmed as he had, but as he took a few steadying breaths in the shade of the trees, the nerves gave way entirely to excitement. Froggit had smelled nice. Froggit had felt nice.

Froggit had said they...loved him?

Sans was happy. The joy of first love. Feeling more certain of himself, Sans turned around. “Okay,” Sans said, looking back over to his partner, “Lets try that again, only without me being a total...”

It happened quietly. That's what Sans couldn't forget. How quietly it had happened. Froggit had already had one foot backwards, in the air. A surprised look on their face. Not a sound.

And then they were

 

 

gone.

Sans had spent what had probably been only for a moment but had felt like hours screaming at the top of the cliff. By the time he had gotten to the side to look down, Froggit had been out of eye-sight. Just gone. Just gone. Fast. So fast. So quiet. A look of surprise. One foot in the air. Gone.

Sans had practically run down most of the mountain-side, but by the time he had stumbled across some other teens and screamed at them for help, by the time all of them had gotten to the bottom while one of their rank had run to find the Guard, Sans had already known it was too late. They couldn't find them. It was too late. He had collapsed. He had wept into a strangers arms. He had begged them for help that he knew they couldn't provide.

A foot in the air.

A look of surprise.

Quiet.

They eventually found the dust a few hours later.

When they spread the dust over all of the things Froggit had loved, they had spread it over their room, some books that were particularly well worn, and one dash over the forehead of all of their family, as was tradition. But Froggits mother, wracked with grief as she was, still found enough empathy and pity in her to take Sans aside during the funeral and wipe one finger of dust across his forehead as well, which he had accepted quietly, with tears in his eyes. “My eldest spoke so fondly of you. It wasn't your fault,” she had said to him quietly, “No one blames you.” and she had kissed him on his cheek, and had gone back to her spot with her family, grieving her child.

It had been an incredible, strong and sincere gesture, to be so forgiven for what Sans -did- feel was his fault. He had been endlessly grateful for her kindness.

The next funeral didn't go nearly as well.  


-

The second time, it was a coincidence.

-

Being known as the kid with the dead partner isn't great for anyone's love life, and especially not for a still developing teenager who felt pangs of guilt every time he had considered a new crush. It took a long, long time for Sans to convince himself he wasn't obligated to grieve forever for what had been a relatively short relationship to begin with, and even then once he had mentally put himself back on the market, it had taken even longer to find someone willing to look past what had happened as well.

It had been his senior year in high school before someone finally openly showed interest in him, in a small school in a small town where pretty much every high school monster had figured out who they were going to the Senior dance with back at the end of Junior year. The situation around Sans love life coupled with that unspoken pressure to go to the dance with someone, anyone, or forever be the kind of loser who hadn't, is likely why Sans had found himself agreeing to hang out with Astigmatism, maybe the biggest asshole of their school.

Let it be stressed that it wasn't 'dates'. It was always 'hanging out'. Astigmatism didn't like labels and wanted everyone to know it, so he was always very careful to make sure everyone knew that when he and Sans went out together, it was either 'hanging' or 'messing around'. He was the kind of monster that was easier to define by listing what he didn't like, and he pretty much hated whatever everyone around him was quickest to say that they liked. He also enjoyed, to a great extent, finding out what the monsters around him believed, whether it was their faith or their politics or just their ideas on life, and then carefully explaining to them why they were always, always wrong.

He was the exactly the kind of monster that Sans, whose self doubt and insecurities had only gotten worse as time had gone on, shouldn't have been hanging out with: but it was those same insecurities that made it possible to do so. In Sans mind, when Astigmatism told him that Sans was sort of naturally cute, but totally ruined the effect by his poor posture and shabby clothes, well, that was exactly what Sans thought of himself too. So he just saw it as Astigmatism just telling Sans how it was. When Sans had confessed to Astigmatism his devotion to stars and space, Astigmatism had felt compelled to explain to Sans that caring about that stuff was sort of stupid for a monster, since none of them would ever be able to see the sky. Sans had always suspected this as well, and had nodded along. When Sans told Astigmatism jokes, stupid little puns or riddles or knock knock jokes, sometimes Astigmatism would laugh, which made Sans feel immensely proud, but mostly he rolled his eyes and scoffed at him, and since Sans suspected he probably wasn't actually all that funny, this made sense to him as well.

By the end of Senior year, after nearly a year of 'hanging out' with Astigmatism, Sans was honestly just relieved someone, anyone, was willing to spend time with someone as clearly annoying and dull to be around as he was.

Senior year was a...rough time.

The truth was, no had even known that Sans and Astigmatism were together-together until Astigmatism had, in the middle of talking about how stupid the whole concept of a senior dance was to everyone around him, casually let on that he was taking Sans to the thing. He didn't ask Sans. That conversation had, in a way, been his way of informing Sans that they were going, as that had been the first Sans had heard of this as well. Sans had blushed and rubbed the back of his neck and that was when it became more obvious to the school body that the two were more than friends.

Later that same day, Astigmatism had said suddenly, as if some new thought had come to him, that he really thought it was stupid that couples would sometimes wait till their senior dance to have sex for the first time. “That's such a stupid fucking concept, ya know?” Astigmatism had said, talking aloud as he and Sans hid near the dumpster behind the school, both of them smoking a pack of cigarettes that Astigmatism had found in their latest dumpster hunt. Neither of them particularly liked smoking, but Astigmatism liked the fact that even adults who liked to smoke had a hard time getting their hands on them, and he felt cool and rebellious smoking with his 'not boyfriend' while some adults (his dad, especially) were jonesing for them. Sans just liked the way the smoke came out at strange parts of his body, mostly because Astigmatism had complimented the way the smoke came out of strange parts of him. “I mean, who are they trying to impress? A bunch of idiots waiting to lose their virginity at their senior dance just to say they did it. Fucking stupid, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Sans had said, playing with the smoke a bit, “guess so.”

“You're still a virgin, right Sans?”

Sans shrugged. He wasn't actually sure. He and Astigmatism had done a lot of stuff in that past year that before Sans would have considered officially made him 'experienced', but this wasn't the first time Astigmatism had brought up Sans supposed 'virginity', which Sans could only guess meant that his, uh, 'friend with benefits' didn't actually consider any of said activities actual sex. Sans had a feeling that Astigmatism got some sort of kick out of the idea of Sans being a virgin that had kept him from doing whatever final thing the one eyed monster considered actual, real sex.

Still, whatever had been holding Astigmatism back was apparently overshadowed by how 'uncool' it would be to wait until the senior dance to do it, so Astigmatism said, with full authority, “Come to my house tonight after your dad falls asleep. I've got some cool stuff to show you.”

Sans had shrugged and nodded and only felt a little nervous about what was apparently going to happen later that day, mulling over this as the rest of the day. Truthfully, he was more relieved than anything else. His virginity felt like some errand that he needed to get done with more than anything else. With the way all of the kids at school talked, especially Astigmatism, he was way behind in that particular chore (it didn't occur to Sans that both this and the idea that everyone was waiting for the senior dance were inherently contradicting. This was one of those things that would occur to him years later, and actually make him chuckle, in a sad kind of way), and it had crossed his mind once or twice that there was something wrong with him to be still, technically anyway, one up till now.

By the time night had come and Sans had snuck out of his second story bedroom window, he had convinced himself that he was totally into whatever this was going to end up being. He liked Astigmatism. Well, he liked how Astigmatism seemed to like him. Cause Astigmatism did like him. Compliments were few and far between, but when they showed up that made them...that much more special. When Astigmatism said something was good, you could believe it, because according to his friend, almost nothing was. And Sans was inclined to agree.

Senior year had been very hard.

When Sans had shown up at Astigmatism's house and seen his friends parents outside, his mother wailing, his younger siblings looking wide eyed and frightened, as his father shouted something at the guards that all seemed to be milling around outside his house, Sans had the sudden, irrational idea that Astigmatism's parents had found out what Sans was coming over to do and had called the Royal Guard to arrest him. That fear had stopped him in his tracks, and outside of the house, alongside a good number of other neighboring gawkers, Sans watched the scene and pieced together what had actually happened.

Astigmatism was dead. Dust. Among the dust they had found a syringe full of strange liquid and a bag full of colorful pills.

No one had said it that night, but everyone knew that humans would sometimes dump drugs down the mountain, trying to get rid of them for some reason or another. When these things were found, they were supposed to be given to the nearest Guard, but there was nothing stopping any monster from just storing them away for a rainy day. The official story was that Astigmatism, trying to psych himself up for a night with his boyfriend (because once Astigmatism was dead, suddenly no one could stop pointing out that Sans had, in essence, been dating him) had taken some bad drugs that he hadn't fully understood, and had died doing so.

And just like that, again, in a surprisingly quiet way, another monster dating Sans died.

The rumors didn't start yet. Not really. Sure, there were some whispers. Some stares. But by this point, this was still just...unlucky. No, no one really blamed Sans for yet another death of another date. No one but Astigmatism's father. Who, a day after the funeral, which Sans had not been invited to, his father had found Sans on the road, his fist full of something, and he told Sans that Astigmatism had been a good kid before he had met Sans. That Sans had been a terrible influence on his middle child. That Sans should be ashamed of himself, for leading along such an impressionable kid.

And then, with tears in his eyes, Astigmatism's father threw a cloud of dust into Sans face, spit at his feet, and walked away.

Sans didn't go back to school after that. He still graduated, but only because his father, Dr. Gastor, had intervened on Sans behalf to convince the school system to give him his degree. Sans didn't care either way. What was he going to do with a degree? What was he going to do at all? He was useless. The kind of monster you, apparently, needed to literally kill yourself with drugs with to stomach touching. Astigmatism had known it. Now the whole underground knew it.

Heh. Heh.

…

-

The third time...well.

-

The next time Sans had even considered opening up his love life again, he was bordering twenty-three, and over five years of self-hatred had turned into a sort of numb self-apathy. Astigmatism, and all that had happened with that, had been a number on his self-esteem, and his seeming inability to get his life together after high school hadn't helped. He was no longer living with his father, mostly because he had thought that being independent might help kickstart whatever ambition could potentially be hiding away in the pit of depression that was his base personality, and had instead more or less given him complete freedom to sleep in his own filth and eat complete crap at random hours with little to no judgment as Sans got by running hot dog stands in various locations around the underground. When he wasn't sleeping or working, Sans sometimes managed to convince himself to be social enough to drink at his local dive bar, Grillbys, during times of day where most everyone was too wasted on whatever they were having to look at his deteriorating form too closely, or to think too hard about jokes that were often self deprecating in nature.

He wasn't necessarily...unhappy. He had just been so far from real joy for so long that this more or less contentment with his own near non-existent felt fine enough. He was good. Comfortably numb.

Then she had shown up.

Shyren was from Waterfall, and when Sans had first noticed her near said waterfalls, it wasn't even the first time he had seen her. It was just the first time he had really noticed her. She was always hanging out with that larger monster, and Sans got the sense that being around the other monster was the only reason Shyren felt confident enough to be out in the world in the first place. Which was both sad and a little endearing. Maybe that was it. Maybe in her, Sans could see someone else just as perpetually uncomfortable in their own skin as he was. Someone who was also afraid to look the world in the eye and really let it know they were here.

Someone who, despite all of that, had still managed to catch his eyes, smile...and blush.

That small blush, sweet and unexpected as it was, had been the first thing to make Sans feel desirable in years, and the feeling was almost immediately intoxicating. He found himself spending more time in Waterfall, looking for her, hoping to catch her eye, hoping to maybe say hi, tell her a few jokes, maybe get another smile. After years of feeling ugly and unwanted, he didn't know why this small interaction had given him such baseless hope. If he had allowed himself to stop and think about it, he'd have probably realized that his behavior was...almost frightening. After all, she had just smiled at him. It didn't mean anything. It was crazy to think that it had.

But his heart had soared. And when she had shown up again, once again their eyes had crossed, and once again she had smiled.

Maybe that stupid, blind passion was the exact thing, maybe even the only thing, that could have convinced Sans to take the risk to just go up to her. To ask her out. Which he did. If he had forced himself to really think about it, he would have never done it in a million years. She wasn't even alone! She had been with the other monster and her sister. And he had gone up, with a stupid, dopey smile, had introduced himself (and had been stunned when she laughed quietly and told him that, yes, she already knew his name), and asked her if she'd like to get some coffee with him some morning. Maybe tomorrow morning? If she wanted?

Shyren had blushed hard, stuttered a bit...and then smiled. “Yeah,” she had said, quietly, her eyes bright and shining as her friends tittered to themselves as well, “yes. Okay. Tomorrow morning? I know a coffee place near the Lodges. Is that too far for you? You live in Snowdin, don't you?”

Sans shrugged, his face splitting hard with his smile, his heart pounding from just this small interaction, going better than he had imagined it would, mostly since he hadn’t allowed himself to imagine it at all. “Yeah, but, that's okay. I have a shortcut. I'll, uh, I'll see you there. Um. Thanks.” Sans blushed a deep blue, “I mean, yeah, you know. Sorry. I'll see you tomorrow!”

And totally forgetting that he was actually, at that moment, working, Sans ran away from the area, ecstatic and nervous and shaking. He hadn't asked out, or been asked out, anyone since high school. He was excited. Hell, he was overjoyed. He needed to find something clean to wear. Maybe buy something new? Shyren was a nice girl, a pretty girl. He didn't want to look...shabby. He had seen a nice blue parka for sale at the shops back in Snowdin. It was a little pricey, but he had a feeling he'd look good in it, and it was just casual enough for coffee while not being, uh, literally full of holes and stains, like the rest of his wardrobe was.

He was excited. He was so excited!

...look.

You've read this far. 

You know how this story goes.

Shryen's dust was found the next morning, on the road. Her sister was the last person to speak to her. She had been excited for her coffee date. A large, heavy branch was laid on top of the dust.

Sans had an alibi. He had woken up early to go buy the blue parka. He had been in the store right around when Shyren was believed to have died. With no other strange people or circumstance in Shryen's life, it was eventually, reluctantly, decided that Shyren had been the victim of bad timing. She had floated down the road just as a heavy branch from a tree above her had come loose, and, likely, broken Shryen's back, depleting her HP until she dusted. A terrible, terrible accident.

That just so happened to occur on her way to a date with Sans.

This wasn't like the last two times. Sans had barely known Shyren. He didn't even know when the funeral was supposed to be. He went home and hid inside of his blankets and didn't turn the lights on, and wondered when he was going to Fall Down. That was what happened, right? To monsters who gave up? They Fell. Everyone knew that. 

He hid in his bed and waited, desperately, achingly, for his body to fall.

While he waited, a knock came to his door. It was pure mindless politeness that compelled him to rise from his bed and head to the door. 

When he opened it, for half a second, he genuinely thought it was Shyren.

It wasn't though. Of course it wasn't. This girl was three times Shyren's size, with long slender arms and longer hair. It was just in the face, the two seemed nearly, hauntingly identical. It was her sister. She looked deeply troubled, and was holding a folded hankerchief tightly in her hands. Unshed tears were in her eyes.

I'm sorry to bother you.

I don't know if I should do this.

And Sans told her no. He told her no in a way that was a borderline plea. A cry for mercy. “Please,” he said, shaking in every limb, “I didn't know her. Please don't.”

Shyren's sister shook her head. She said that he needed to stop. Stop what? Whatever it was that was happening with him. Monsters were talking. Everyone knew of his history. She didn't understand what was happening to him, and was very, very sorry that it was happening. But he needed to stop. So that no more monsters would be hurt. No more victims, like... like...

Shyren's sister sobbed. She opened up the hankerchief, and tucked away inside was the slightest bit of dust. So that you won't forget the cost, she said, as she reached out with the handkerchief. Sans wanted to knock her hand away, to run, to hide, but held still, trembling, as Shyren's sister gently rubbed her sister's dust against his forehead. So you remember, she said. So you'll stop. In her memory. 

Please, she said. Stop.

And floated away.

-

Someone said he was collecting them. Dust from lovers. It was a joke, but one that nobody laughed at. No one thought he was...actually responsible. Not, at least, in the sense that he had actually, physically harmed anyone himself. But, well.

Once a tragedy.

Twice was a coincidence.

Three times...well...

No one knows who first said Sans was cursed. It was probably another joke, in bad taste, when they had said it anyway. But it was a persistent word. It followed Sans, now. Cursed. Maybe just unlucky? No, monsters whispered to each other when Sans passed them by, head low, eye dark. Three times? That's not unlucky. That's cursed.

Not really, of course. No one really believed it.

But...maybe.

It was possible, right?

No, duh, of course not.

It would take seriously powerful magic.

...but that kind of magic did exist...didn't it?

And round and round the rumors went. He's cursed, they said. No he's not, they added, not really. But he might be. Kind of. Definitely unlucky. Maybe cursed.

…

Either way.

You definitely shouldn't date Sans the Skeleton.

On this, at least, everyone agreed.

-

On a totally unrelated note, later that same year, a skeleton monster named Papyrus officially joined the Royal Guard! Hurray! He was so, so proud!

For his very first station, he was given Snowdin, to keep an eye on the entrance of the ruins, and to assist the town as best he could, which he was very excited about. He would do his absolute best, he told his mentor and Captain of the Royal Guard, Undyne. He said this with a tight salute, and a happy tear in his eye.

It was a very, very good year for Papyrus.

Hurray!


	2. I Warned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick request: I make music playlists to listen too when I'm writing, and I enjoy making them specialized for the story I'm writing. For this one, my playlist is sorta sparse. Anyone got any suggestions I could use for this story? 'Preciate any recommendation, though no worries if nothing comes to mind.
> 
> On that note, please enjoy <3

Okay, admittedly, Papyrus was a little nervous.

The house was moved into, the paperwork was done, and Papyrus had shined every edge of his armor for several hours the night before, going over a script in his head the whole time. He’d take a thorough tour around the town itself this morning, being certain to specifically meet all the local shopkeeps, before moving on to establish a quick and reliable route through the woods, check out the door to the Ruins, report the morning activities to his senior guardsman, Greater Dog, and then do another run through the town for the afternoon.

It was his very first patrol: he –had- to make a good first impression to the town as their new guardsman. He was here as a relief to the well-known and well-loved Dogamy and Dogaressa, who were both taking maternity leave for the next six months, and Undyne had warned him that making decent connections with the local townsfolk would make him ten times more effective at his job. “You need to be the kind of monster that other monsters will –want- to go to for help,” Undyne had told him, as she had helped him pack his things for the move, “You can be the most effective fighter and tracker in the world, and it won’t mean bunk if no one will let you know that a problem has occurred in the first place. Earn their trust. You can do this!”

He could! He could do this! Sure, certainly, his history of making himself well known and well liked in his community was…spotty. A bit. Goodness knows that apparently he hadn’t made any sort of impression in his own childhood home. He had no idea what it was, but there was always a disconnect, wherever he was. This just…wall of communication. It was very frustrating, and utterly baffling.

But, he was getting better! He was doing great even! He had managed, beyond all expectation, to make a connection with Undyne, of all monsters! They were close and connected in a way that Papyrus had totally failed to be with all of his childhood friends (they couldn’t even really be called that, honestly. He had literally been face to face with one of his ‘friends’ the day before, and they hadn’t recognized him at all. Oh well…the realization had only hurt a little, and it had probably been for the best anyway. He had just gotten some exercise and felt better within the hour!), and frankly, she was the best friend he could have ever asked for anyway!

Not his bestest-best friend, of course. But an easy second!

Now he just needed to recreate that experience with an entire town, or his job was doomed and his life would be ruined.

No problem.

No problem-o.

No…issues…

Papyrus slapped himself. He had to get it together! He was The Great Papyrus, Famous (soon enough, anyway) Royal Guardsman! Dependable, likeable, a hero to all monsterkind (just like Undyne!)!

He just had to go out there and prove it!

Right.

So…go!

…

Go!

…

Another slap.

This mental back and forth went on for another twenty minutes before Papyrus finally pushed himself out the door. It was a beautiful day out, he honestly couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day to start on: the temperature was slightly less frozen than usual, the snow beneath his feet was stable, and even the fog around the town had lightened up quite a bit. Gorgeous! An excellent sign for The Great Papyrus! Feeling reassured that luck was on his side, Papyrus set out.

His armor had the intended effect, and he was quickly recognized and approached as the newest guardsman of the Royal Guard. Most of the monsters gave him polite nods, but a few smiled and waved, and two in particular came up to him to introduce themselves.

The first was a large, friendly bear who informed him that he was always happy to see new young people holding themselves to such high standards as the job required, and Papyrus had grinned widely as the bear informed him how much respect he had for anyone in the uniform, his chest practically popping from its swell.

The second time had been a young bunny-monster, who wanted to use the opportunity of meeting him to explain to her small younger brother, Bun-Bun, that Papyrus and those who wore armor like him was who Bun-Bun was meant to go to if he needed urgent help. How much Bun-Bun had understood was a little up in the air, but the small bunny had hugged Papyrus’s leg and Papyrus had nearly burst into tears, both proud and a little humbled by the weight of responsibility he felt for the small monsters life.

With such a positive first start, Papyrus kept on with the internal script. As planned, he went and met with the store keeps, introducing himself and explaining where he was stationed and where he lived, giving out his phone number and promising to respond as quickly as possible should they need him. The general goods store clerk in turn gave him a warm cinnibun, on the house, and the hotel lobby clerk had promised to report any suspicious activity that came through their lodging. The local Libarby (yes, they knew the sign was spelled wrong) told him how to get access to the towns newspaper, and…well, that was it, actually. Grillby’s, the local bar, wouldn’t open for another few hours still, and the town wasn’t terribly big, especially not in comparison to the City, where Papyrus had been living for the last year while he was in training. But that wasn’t a bad thing! That just meant it’d be easier to give every citizen of Snowdin the attention and devotion to duty they deserved!

Besides, while the town was small, it’s surrounding wildlife, which Papyrus was also responsible for, was gigantic.

If you were unfamiliar with the local area, it might have even been overwhelming. Papyrus casually walked through the paths, greeting some of the monsters that were, for their own reasons, also out in the forests, carefully noting a few younger monsters, who didn’t necessarily seem like trouble makers, but Papyrus had a feeling would probably be frequently found messing around out here in the woods.

After carefully traversing some of the puzzles that the Canine Pack had put together (very sloppy work, honestly. Papyrus would have to make upgrading the local landscape puzzles at the top of his priority list), Papyrus kept down the path until, finally, he got to the door.

He knew it would be locked, but he tried it anyway, grabbing the handle and pulling gently. No give. Oh well. The Ruins had been inaccessible for a long, long time now, long before Papyrus had even been born, and while it wasn’t unheard of for things to come out of it (namely, humans), no one had ever reported being able to successfully get in. And according to Undyne, there was pressure from the very top to never even really –try- to get in.

“The King has never specifically forbidden it, but…I always got the sense he’d prefer that some things just be left alone, ya know?” Undyne had said, during one of their breaks from training, the two huffing and puffing and leaning against each other, “If a human comes out of it, then it’s our problem. Otherwise, the ruins is kind of its own thing.”

Papyrus considered the symbols on the door for a moment before turning his back to it. Whatever the Kings history with that place was, it wasn’t his business.

He headed back to town.

-

After checking in with the Canine Pack, Papyrus lingered around the town for a bit, watching the goings on of the citizens. It was a quiet little place. Papyrus felt a sudden but intense affection for it. He had never felt like this for the place before, but he supposed it was that sense of…belonging? To him? That made him take such a pride in it. This was –his- town, now. These were –his- people. His responsibilities.

He felt his eyes start to tear up, so filled with pride at the thought. He was going to be such a good guardsman! He’d make them all proud!

Lighting didn’t really change in the Underground, but there was always a sort of shift in atmosphere that suggested the day was getting later. The air got chillier, the monsters slower. For Snowdin specifically, the signs were the teenage monsters reluctantly coming in from the woods to go to their respective homes and Grillby’s starting to crowd up as the adults started to wind down from the day. Papyrus had wanted to wait until the bar was more or less as full as it was going to get before going to introduce himself, so that he’d have a better idea of who tended to go in there and who didn’t, and near the end of his shift was as good a time as any to go take a peek.

Grillby’s was a decent place for being, essentially, a dive bar. Not the kind of place Papyrus would ever want to eat at himself (god, the grease alone!), but the flame-monster knew how to set up a friendly and inviting atmosphere, and everyone inside seemed to be in good spirits, if a little more inebriated then Papyrus would otherwise approve of. He introduced himself to a few patrons that he hadn’t spotted out and about in town, nodded to some of his fellow guardsman who were off shift (they gave him little yips back), before sitting at the bar itself.

Grillby, idly cleaning a plate, went up to him, and paused.

“………………”

Papyrus waited patiently.

“……………The new Guardsman, yes? Welcome to the town, sir. Can I get you anything?”

“Please, call me Papyrus! And a milkshake, please, Grillby.” Papyrus said, giving a bright smile, “whatever flavor has already thawed out is fine with me!”

Grillby nodded then stopped, giving Papyrus a slightly confused look. “……….I’m sorry, but I don’t know you, do I? You seem familiar.”

Just as Papyrus started to answer, a bird-monster from a few seats down snorted to himself, “Geez, Grilbs, please tell me you ain’t confusing him with our local walking disaster. I knew your eyesight was bad, but that’s just terrible. Not all skeleton monsters are the same, ya know?”

Papyrus gave the bird-monster a cheerful wave, “Hello, fellow patron! I am Papyrus, the new Royal Guardsman! Pleasant to meet you! Sorry, but, walking disaster?”

The bird-monster giggled. “What, you haven’t heard? He’s our own local legend…actually,” the monsters voice lowered, nodding towards the entrance, “he’s here now. Check it out.”

Papyrus looked over to the door, which had just closed behind…oh.

Oh.

The small skeleton monster shook some of the snow from his shoulders and, other than giving a few monsters a polite nod, kept his head down and headed straight to the bar and to a particular seat in the corner with such unwavering steps that Papyrus could have guessed from that alone that the monster only ever sat in that spot.

So, maybe it was telling that none of the seats around that spot were occupied, despite the bar being plenty filled.

Without prompting, Grillby opened up a bottle of ketchup and went over to the corner the skeleton monster had tucked himself away in, who gave Grillby a tired smile and a small “Thanks. Anything new on the menu, Grillbz?”

“…………..fries and burgers, Sans.” Grillby said, a touch of amusement in his tone, “I’ve got plenty of different condiments, as you know. You sure I can’t convince you to try mustard, or honey?”

“And betray ketchup? Grillby, I can’t even mustard a response to that. I find the prospect very….” Sans frowned, “de…dressing? Does that work?”

“………………….I’d work on it.” Grillby admitted, “but I can see what you were going for.”

As Papyrus watched this exchange, his soul pounding in his chest, he heard the bird-monster scoff beside him. “I keep telling Grillbz to stop doing that shit,” the bird-monster muttered to Papyrus, giving the duo a side eye, “If he’s not careful, he’s gonna end up next, mark my word.”

“The next what?” Papyrus asked, keeping his voice low as well, mostly just to match the bird, “is Sans the walking disaster you were referring too?”

“I honestly can’t believe you haven't heard about this yet,” the bird said, leaning in conspiratorially, “that’s the guy. Ya know, the cursed one.”

“Cursed?” Papyrus said, perhaps a touch too loudly, because several voices in the bar went quiet, and both Sans and the fire-monster were now looking at him. Sans, in turn, seemed to suddenly withdraw into himself, thanking Grillby again for the ketchup and clearly disengaging from the conversation. Grillby came back to the center bar and gave the bird-monster a hard look as Papyrus said, quieter this time, “what do you mean cursed?”

“Look, I'm gonna tell ya, just don't be weird and stare or whatever, okay?” the bird-monster said, his voice low, “alright, look, man, before I tell you, let's be clear. Guy isn't a bad dude. It's actually kind of fucked up-”

“Language,” Papyrus whispered back.

The bird-monster seemed genuinely thrown, “uh, what?”

“I, The Great Papyrus, noted that you said a bad word,” Papyrus explained helpfully, looking over at Grillby for confirmation, who after a moment awkwardly nodded, “but please, go on.”

“...right,” bird-monster took a second to get his head back in proper rumor spreading mode, but eventually continued on, “so his situation is kind of...messed up. Dude's unlucky. I mean, like, supernaturally unlucky. And I don't mean, like, guy trips on nothing unlucky, I mean 'every date this guy has ever gone on has ended in death', unlucky. Cursed.”

“...............that simply isn't true and you know it, Daryle,” Grillby whispered, “Sans went on plenty of dates with both of those young monsters long before either of their accidents.”

“That sure as heck didn't help that Shyren girl, now did it?” Daryle the bird-monster pointed out, taking a swig of his drink (some form of human tea, as far as Papyrus could tell) as he continued on, “Sure, it might not have happened right away, but no ones arguing that all of his dates didn’t -eventually- die, right? And those are only the deaths most obviously connected to him!”

“Daryle...” Grillby said, a touch of warning in his voice.

The bird-monster continued on, undaunted, “Lots of monsters have been Falling Down in Snowdin the last decade, it’s on the rise. Everyone knows it. Want to know what else happened the last decade? That guy,” Daryle pointed at Sans, who was very pointedly pretending to not notice this, appearing totally engrossed on the water stains on the counter, “hit puberty. Like, what if he doesn't need to date them? What if he just needs to be attracted to them? One of the guys did the math, and you remember, Grillz, when all the guys in the Bunny family just started falling, one after another? Well, that all started when Sans was around twelve, and he thinks Sans might have been going through a phase-”

“Wow, okay.” Papyrus said, putting a hand up, looking thoroughly disturbed, “Stop. That was...wow.”

The bird and fire monsters stared as Papyrus took a moment, inhaling and exhaling.

“Wow.” Papyrus said again, “That was really stupid, literally everything you just said right now. Sans doesn't kill people by thinking they're cute. No one does that. It is not a thing that happens. How do you not know this?”

Daryle gave Papyrus a mildly insulted look, raising an eyebrow at Grillby, who shook his head, “.....no, I agree with our new guardsman. This unfortunate rumor is just that. A rumor. And the spreading of it to all new townfolk is going to inevitably do more harm than good.”

“Someone was going to tell him at some point,” Daryle shrugged, “hell-”

“Language.”

“-heck, Sans himself would have probably told him. Dude knows he's cursed.”

“Wait,” Papyrus said, staring wide eyed over at the other skeleton, “Sans thinks he's cursed??” and then, startling pretty much everyone in the entire bar, Papyrus said, loud enough to be heard by all, “Sans, do you think you're cursed?!?”

Sans looked between Papyrus, Daryle, Grillby, the rest of the now openly staring bar, and then back at Papyrus, totally stunned by this call out. Everyone continued to stare back. Sans started to break out in a sweat (and by sweat, of course, it's meant that his skull began to literally melt against each other. Skeleton-Monster based physiology is -terrifying-.). “Uhhh...um.” he looked over at Grillby for help, who just seemed sort of concerned, while Papyrus was staring at him with this really intense look of expectation. “sorry...who are you?”

Papyrus covered his eyes dramatically, “Oh my god!” he ran his hand down his face, his armor clinking the sound of metal together, before Papyrus stood up, and then, without prompting, stood up on his stall and put a foot up dramatically on the counter, wind appearing out of seemingly nowhere as his long, red scarf flapped in the breeze as he proclaimed, “It is I! The Great Papyrus, Newly Famous Royal Guardsman! Protector of Snowdin and all its inhabitants, Protege to Heroine Undyne, and, eventually, Hero to all Monsterkind! Please, hold your applause!”

Then Papyrus paused, and after a moment some of the more impressionable monsters gave tiny little claps. Papyrus allowed this for a moment before he jumped down from the counter (which was all well and good, because the look on Grillby's face the longer Papyrus's boots were on his counter was getting a bit heated) and walked up to Sans, who was just staring at him, speechless, as Papyrus got down on one knee, and said in a deadly serious tone, “but at this moment, most importantly, I am the monster who is going to disprove this stupid and hurtful rumor!”

“Sans the Skeleton!” Papyrus grabbed Sans hand with both hands, and gripped it tight, “You will go on a date with me!”

-

Sans had never teleported away from a situation faster.

The second he had shaken Papyrus's hands away and had gotten his feet on the ground, he was gone. Unable to jump long distances, especially as worked up as he was right now, Sans had to do a burst of three different cuts through space, before landing in front of his lodging, getting into his tiny house as quickly as he could and slamming the door behind him, breathing heavily.

What the fuck.

Where had that even come from? Who even was that!? Papyrus? Did that guy live in town now? What a handful. Geeze...Sans couldn't even wrap his head around any of that. What an absolute trainwreck.

Did he -want- to die!?

Everyone knew Sans was cursed. Most importantly, -Sans- knew he was cursed. It was the only thing that made any sense. Every person Sans had ever dated had dusted. That was -not- a coincidence, no matter what Grillby said. And even if it wasn't, was it worth the risk to find out for sure?! Of course not!

He had to stop. It didn't matter if it wasn't fair. He had to stop!

Sans took a steadying breath. That whole exchange had really freaked him out. But it was fine now. The other skeleton, Papyrus, well...he had seemed nice enough, if a little spastic. Sans was sure the other monster would get over this need to 'disprove' his curse with time. All Sans had to do was avoid him around town. That should be easy enough. He'd just avoid Grillby's for awhile and-

There was a knock on the door.

One of these days, Sans was going to learn to not answer those.

“Oh, man...”Sans groaned as he opened the door to a slightly surprised looking Papyrus, letting a spike of annoyance show as he said, “look, are you following me?”

“Oh, uh, no!” Papyrus said, looking so genuinely confused that it diffused some of Sans frustration, “Wow! Sorry! I thought the realtor was kidding! Why do you live in my shed?”

Sans twitched. His money issues was a sensitive subject, “It's not a shed anymore, it’s being rented to me as a lodge, since the house it belonged to has been empty for...wait...” Sans leaned his head out the door, looking over at the large house that had shadowed over his lodging for years now, “did you move into the house next door?!”

“I did! It seemed like the thing to do! Admittedly, had I known renting sheds as a home was an option, I...” Papyrus smiled, “probably would have still picked moving into a house! But still, love the creativity! Very resourceful! I guess!?” Papyrus took a step back as Sans came out, looking desperately over at the usual 'for sale' sign that had stood in the house's lawn for ages, only now noticing the 'SOLD' sticker on it, “and hey! Us living so close to each other! That's going to make dating really convenient! Maybe we could have our first date at my house? Somehow I think yours is going to be a little too small. No offense.”

This day was steadily getting more and more complicated. Complicated was not fun. Sans scratched the inner side of one of his eyesockets (Skeleton-Based physiology. Literally the stuff of nightmares.) awkwardly, before sighing, “Look, Papyrus, right?”

“Indeed!” Papyrus said, posing with his hands on his bony hips, “The Great! At your service!”

“Great? Right. Good. Look,” Sans rubbed the back of his neck, before deciding to pick the gentle route. After all, the other monster wasn't being unkind, necessarily. Maybe if Sans could just make him understand how upsetting this line of thought was... “I understand where you're coming from with this dating thing. I do. It's, uh, actually really sweet, wanting to help me with this. Some of the monsters can be...a little harsh. About this whole 'curse' thing. And you're right! There probably isn't a curse. But, watching three of my datemates die...you can understand why that might have soured me towards dating in general, right? It's just not something I want to do anymore. You can understand that, right?”

Papyrus frowned, but he did look like he was seriously thinking about it, as he placed his hand on his chin and closed his eyes, “So...even if you're not cursed...you don't want to date? Even if that would be the easiest way of making the rumors stop and getting everyone to treat you like a normal, not at all cursed abomination?”

“Well, I wouldn't have put it like -that-,” Sans said with a flinch, “but yes, essentially.”

Papyrus nodded. “Right, right. So, we should just,” Papyrus opened his eyes, struck by his own brilliance, “skip dating and go straight into being in a relationship!”

“No, that is absolutely not what I meant.” Sans said, deadpan, “You -know- that's not what I meant.”

“I know you didn't mean it that way, that's why it's my idea. A fantastic idea by the fantastic Papyrus!”

“No. Look, don't make me get mean about this,” Sans said, stepping back towards his lodge, “For your sake and mine, I will report you to the Royal Guard if you don't drop this.”

“I am the Royal Guard,” Papyrus reminded him with a proud smile.

“Then someone above you!” Sans said, shoving his hands into the air, “your boss then!”

“Eh, Undyne will understand,” Papyrus said, waving his hand dismissively, “Do not fret, my dear Sans! I understand that things have been bad until now! But I am here! And I'm going to prove to you, and every monster here, that you are able to receive, and are utterly worthy of receiving, non-lethal love!”

And then, his whole body softening in an expression of such sincere gentleness, Papyrus added, “Because of course you are.”

Sans flinched at this like a wild swing towards the gut. “I...” Sans wanted to say, of course he was worthy of love. That Sans being worthy of love wasn't the question. That whether it was -safe- to do so was the problem...but he couldn't bring himself to say it. The words felt like acid in his throat. He felt vile at the idea of even trying to say it. To say of course, of course, he was worthy...

He didn't believe it. Not even a little bit.

Because he had to stop.

Because he was shabby.

Because it had been his fault.

So instead he said, with a dark scowl on his face, “Leave me alone. That's your last warning.” before going back into his lodging and slamming the door behind him.

Papyrus gave the door a long, sad look, before sighing in frustration. “Okay,” he said aloud to himself, “Not a great start for the relationship. That's okay. We'll work on it. Sans will see soon enough!” Papyrus posed dramatically in the street, ignoring the funny looks he was getting from some neighbors who had been watching this whole drama go down from a distance, “I, Papyrus, have never been beaten in the game of dating, and I never will!”

And feeling fully confident in his abilities, Papyrus went home, and planned.

-

In the dark, after Sans had finished wearing himself out, his eyes strained and bruised and wet, his fists still clenched even in the throes of sleep, Sans slept, curled into his bed.

In the dark...something moved.

Even if you were there, you couldn't have seen it. Even if Sans had been awake, he wouldn't have been aware of it. It shifted like air. Like flecks and specks in the wind. Like dust in the window-light.

To put it in scientific terms, it was a sort of energy given intent. Sans own personal thunderstorm.

To put it in magical terms, it was the very personification of purpose.

To the anomaly, we would call it...karma.

Something moves, and because time is around to keep everything from happening at once, a long time ago, an old turtle sits with a young goat heir, and says, “Has anyone ever explained to you why we place the dust of a monster on the brow of those they cherished most?”

The young prince made a guess.

The turtle smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbc


	3. You In The

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude, this chapter FOUGHT ME. XD But I wrangled it. Hopefully, you guys will enjoy this, though I'll admit there's quite a few issues with the pacing that keep making me wince. Either way, please enjoy : ) It'll probably be awhile before the next chapter is out, considering how much this one fought me, but I'm working on it! Thanks for the support!

“So,” said a voice from near his feet as Papyrus ruffled through notes on his desk, startling the large skeleton, “Finally talked to him, huh? That's exciting.”

Papyrus turned to look down at his best friend, and frowned, “Flowey,” he said, clearly irritated, “we've talked about this. Knocking? Privacy? What if I was naked?”

Flowey rolled his eyes, “Ooooh, please. Half of your outfits are bone-tight anyway. You know what I see from my vantage point, all the time? The lines of your pelvis, in all their scandalous glory. You and the underparts of literally every monster in the underground. Trust me, it's awful, you are all so gross.”

“Literally none of that excuses you being rude,” Papyrus said, not actually all that offended. He was used to the Flower-Monsters antics. Flowey was his oldest friend, after all, “but, since you're here anyway, yes!” Papyrus said, his eyes suddenly wide and shining, jumping from his chair and pumping his arms excitedly, “I talked to him! It was amazing! He's so precious, Flowey, he reminded me of a grouchy cat. And seeing those dark, wide eyes looking up at me, actually really -looking- at me, in the face...” Papyrus's face flushed a hard orange color, jumping from foot to foot in glee, “Wowie! It was better than I could have ever imagined!”

Flowey smiled, basking in Papyrus's joy for a moment before giggling, “That's great! So, what'd he say?”

“Hmm?” Papyrus hummed, startled out of his dance for joy by the question. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking somewhat awkward now. “Oh. You know. A lot of stuff.”

“Like what?” Flowey asked, stretching his vines up so that he was up on the desk as Papyrus took a seat again, eyeing the various notes and drawings Papyrus had been working on all night (the guy didn't sleep. As in, ever. For the life of him, Flowey still didn't understand how he could survive like this. As far as the flower was aware, Papyrus was the only monster in the whole underground who never needed to), some of the plans only a bit outrageous, the others certifiably insane.

“Oh, ya know...” Papyrus shrugged, looking a little down now as rested his head on his hand, “He said I was sweet! Also he said that he doesn't want to date me. A lot of what he said was about that second part, actually.” Papyrus admitted, playing with his pencil, “So, that's a work in progress, obviously.”

Flowey had already known this, of course. He had watched the whole scene from a distance. Whether Papyrus knew this or not was always a little up in the air (Flowey had long ago learned it was foolish to assume Papyrus didn't spot him following him), but the two both enjoyed this game of pretending they had the upper hands on each other. It kept things interesting, and meant they always had stuff to talk about. So Flowey, true to tradition, gaped as if this was shocking and new information, and said, “He rejected you?! Oh, Papyrus, I'm so sorry! Why?”

“Did you know that there's this big rumor that Sans is cursed?!” Papyrus said, sounding genuinely outraged, “Everyone apparently thinks that anyone Sans date is cursed to die! Even Sans believes it, which honestly, for someone who enjoys studying science as much as he does, you'd think he'd know better! It's the most ignorant thing I've ever heard!”

Flowey nodded, “Actually, I did hear about that, ages ago. I thought you would have already known, so I never thought to tell you. My bad.” he said cheerfully, before tacking on, “How is that ignorant, though? Everyone he dates -does- die.”

“Well, yeah,” Papyrus rolled his eyes, “but not because he's 'cursed'. That's so stupid. So now he won't date me because he thinks I'd die.”

“Ha!” Flowey giggled to himself, giving his friend a smug look, “That's, uh...pretty funny, huh?”

“Shut up, I don't want to hear it,” Papyrus groaned, laying his head on the desk. He then shot his head back up, looking intense, “I can fix this. I just have to make him see all the benefits to dating me! I mean, I've worked so hard for this! I've finally got the home, the job...I've earned him! He just has to see it.”

“Well, it'll be easier to do it with him so close by,” Flowey remarked, looking out Papyrus's window to look down at the shed below, “Eyyy, who was right about getting this house, by the way? Didn't I say you'd like your neighbors? Told you I wouldn't steer you wrong.”

“I still can't believe he's living in a shed,” Papyrus muttered, glancing out the window as well (as he had been for most of that night, honestly. He had moved the location of his desk the second he realized what a vantage point he had. He was incredibly grateful that he had decided to go meet the surrounding neighborhood before bed.) “Honestly, Flowey, I thought you were messing with me. Who rents a shed?”

“He moved in there not long after you left for the city. Two years now, I guess? Just about?” Flowey explained, “Guys been kind of struggling, honestly, since the whole 'application project' incident. It's been pretty pathetic. He hasn't really tried to do, well...anything, since then.”

Papyrus shifted in his seat, something that could have been mistaken as guilt crossing his expression, had Flowey not known better, “It was necessary,” Papyrus muttered, “I couldn't have him moving. It would have ruined everything.”

“No argument here, friend,” Flowey said, giving Papyrus a big smile, “and it just makes you being here all the more important, doesn't it? Sans needs rescuing. Who better for that then The Great Papyrus?”

Papyrus nodded, “Exactly,” he said, going back to his notes, “I've been writing ideas down all night of how to persuade him into my arms. What do you think of me asking him to move in tomorrow? I think I could get the house prepared for him by the afternoon. Too forward?”

“Maybe too soon.” Flowey said, with a shrug, “That's a second date conversation, and you haven't scored the first one, buddy.”

“Ugh, I know you're right,” Papyrus grumbled, “It's just so frustrating. I wish I could fast forward past this part. Just scoop him up into my arms and, that's it, he's mine. Why can't it be like that?”

“I think a lot of monsters in town would call that 'abduction', and that's probably including him.” Flowey said gently, reading some more of the ideas, “They'd probably make you put him back. Oooh, I like the garden one! I'm biased, of course, but flowers are very romantic.”

“Yes, I liked that one too...” Papyrus frowned, suddenly very timid as he said to Flowey, “...He is going to change his mind, right? I mean...it's already taken so much. To have come so far and him just to...not want to? It seems unfair. This is going to be my happy ending, isn't it?”

Flowey sighed, “Aw, Papyrus. Of course he's going to change his mind. I've never met a monster more Determined than you. Well, besides me, anyway,” Flowey laughed, before going up to Papyrus and nuzzling him, “If you've set your mind to it, you can do it. And I'll be there to help every step of the way. Don't worry about it.”

Papyrus gently placed a hand on the back of Flowey's head and hugged him back, feeling full of hope and warmth as he told his friend, “Thank you. I just needed to hear that.” As he let Flowey go, he turned back to the paper. “So, if I went with the garden one...what do you think of a banner?”

-

When Sans had woken up, he had actually mostly forgotten about the night before.

He pulled himself out of bed, and walked over to the kitchen, which he had managed to set up on the opposite side of the room. He made himself some coffee, and had then sat back on his bed and blearily watched it brew. His mind was fuzzy and his eyes felt baggy and sore. Why did he feel like he had been socked in the face? How long had he been crying last night? He had gotten really worked up over something, hadn't he...

The brew finished and he went up to go get it, and immediately went to go sit back down on his bed. He didn't have a table. He kept meaning to get one. He'd get around to it eventually.

He sipped his coffee for awhile, and then realized he was hungry. He went to his fridge and looked inside and saw, well...all of his 'easy' food was gone. He supposed he could make eggs...

Sans closed the door and decided he wasn't actually all that hungry, and just poured himself some more coffee.

His head hurt. He was still so tired. What had upset him so much?

After awhile, he put on some clothes (it was the same pair of pants and parka as yesterday, picked up from the ground; but he did put on a fresh shirt from his drawer, so that was a win) and started to talk himself into going to work. Whatever. If he didn't hurry, he was going to miss the lunch rush. If he missed the lunch rush, he's have to get up early tomorrow to get the breakfast crowd if he was going to make rent at the end of the month. If he missed the lunch rush and the morning rush...

Sans sighed. He needed to go. He couldn't ask dad for more money. He still owed him for that rent from four months ago. God, what a fuck up...

Finishing his coffee, Sans opened the door to head out.

And stopped dead in his tracks.

“Uh.” Sans said, staring at the ginormous cluster of flowers, of varying shades and sizes, all inexplicably planted in what had been his snow-covered front yard the day before. Above the rock pattern that had led to his lodge from the sidewalk, was a large banner that said, in all capital letters, “GOOD MORNING, SANS!”

“Um...” Sans looked around, noting a few neighbors out and about, all having noticed him come out and whispering to each other. Most of them seemed amused, tittering to each other and pointing. A few looked grave. Very grave. Suddenly, the events of last night rushed back to Sans, and the skeleton, horrified, went back inside and slammed the door behind him.

Right.

Papyrus.

The new guardsman.

Sans was shaking. It wasn't fear or excitement. It was just a clear and intense feeling of being overwhelmed. What was happening? This couldn't actually be happening. Things like this didn't happen, not outside of, like, movies and teen-drama. This was insane.

Sans went to his front window and peaked behind the curtain. The garden was still there. So was the banner. It was...very pretty. Very well put together. Some of the neighbors who had seen him come out of the lodge had come up to the garden and were taking pictures of it with their phones now. His home was going to go viral by the end of the day, Sans just fucking knew it.

What was -happening-??

Maybe he wouldn't go to work today. He'd wake up for the morning rush for a week straight. He really would. But wow he could not go out there today. This was going to be his fault. Everyone was going to judge him. Why couldn't he just stop?!

What if something happened to that other skeleton today!?

Sans stood in his shed and shook, his mind filling up with horrible scenarios. The guy was a guard, right? Of course. Right. That...that was a pretty dangerous job, wasn't it? They wore all that armor for a reason, after all! Oh no, oh man. Something was going to happen. This Papyrus guy was going to be the next victim. It was going to be all Sans fault!

Sans closed his eyes and shook his head. No. No. He was overreacting. He wasn't dating the guy. He was being courted by him. That was a totally different thing. If Sans just...didn't acknowledge any of it, then it didn't count, right? Everything was going to be fine. He should go to work. There was no way he was actually going to get up for the breakfast rush every day for a week. He was way too fucking lazy for that. He had to go now. He couldn't afford not too.

Before Sans had a chance to talk himself out of it, he walked out the door and headed to his Waterfall stand...before turning and heading towards his Snowdin stand. Snowdin wasn't good for the lunch crowd, since plenty of monsters liked to swing by Grillby's or the general store for lunch (the Snowdin Stand was actually good for the breakfast rush, which Sans almost never set up for), but, well, that was also where Papyrus was stationed, right? The Snowdin Guardsman were always swinging by that stand, they were his number one customers during the day.

There was nothing wrong with just wanting to...confirm that the guy was alive? Right?

The budget would be a little tight, but Sans could work it. It'd be fine.

He headed to his stand.

-

Sans sold a good amount of hot dogs for the first hour, but the rush eventually ended and his customers dried up, and still he hadn't seen the tall skeleton. But as the day went on, Sans apprehension turned into an exhausted self-chastising. This had been stupid. Nothing was wrong. He had over-reacted. Just because he hadn't seen the other monster yet didn't mean that the guy was dusted. There was no curse. Of course there was no curse.

He was just...so damn unlucky.

Well, no. Sans felt a pang of self-hatred at the thought. That was selfish. He was fine. Nothing had happened to -him-, after all. He just dated...very unlucky monsters. It was self-centered, to make their tragedies all about him. Even if maybe, had he not been with them at all, every single one of them would probably, absolutely be alive right now...

God, he was tired.

Sans felt himself starting to nod off at the stand and welcomed it. If someone wanted a hot dog they'd wake him up. Sans was always tired. Seeing him asleep at his work station was an almost daily occurrence. He mostly got away with it because everyone knew that he needed the sleep to buffer his hit points, anyway. It was always good to have at least twenty tucked away, for little bumps and bruises. He was currently at 32/1, but a little more never hurt. Accidents happened after all. He was the best example of that in the whole Underground.

Heh. Heh.

…

Sans drifted off. He had no idea how long he was out when suddenly a loud voice, full of indignation, shouted, “Oh my god! Sans! Wake up! Are you asleep at your job!?”

Sans eyes blinked open wearily, and once again, the fog of sleep made him stupid and forgetful. He stared at the unfamiliar monster in front of him for several seconds before a name occurred to him. “Papyrus?”

The monster, who had been ranting about safety and responsibility up till that point, stopped, staring at him for a moment before suddenly the skeletons face flushed, a bright, intense orange color. “Nyeheheheh,” Papyrus chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “Hearing you say my name is...really nice, actually. But! Your flirtations will not distract me! Sans, don't you understand how dangerous this area can be?! If a human were to fall into the underground, this path would be one the first ones they would take! Do you understand how easy it would be for such a human to harm you, if catching you so unaware like this!? Entirely unacceptable!”

Wow, this guy was something else. Sans felt himself grinning despite himself, laying his head in his hands as he said, “Uh, yeah? Sorry, Papy-” Sans noted the 'flirtation' remark and hesitated, “...mister. I just got a bit bone-tired, is all. It's okay though, any human that came down would probably just mistake me for a lump of snow. So sleeping is perfect camouflage, really.”

“Remarkable,” Papyrus said dryly, “Unfunny, and lazy. It's truly amazing that someone as great as I would be so immediately infatuated with someone like you, but then, the heart demands what the heart demands! You just can't fight these things. Speaking of which, did you enjoy my gift this morning!?” Papyrus said, looking keenly excited, “Did you notice the formation of the flowers? My friend said that our height difference might have made it less obvious to you then it was to me.”

“Uhh...the formation?” Sans asked. “No?”

“They yellow flowers were in the shape of my face, of course!” Papyrus said, posing proudly, “There aren't a lot of different colored flowers in the Underground, so I just made the blue a sort of background to my face, and those pink ones were supposed to represent my scarf, but Flowey says the pinks ones won't be able to stand the snow for long, so they're probably going to die soon. Oh well.” Papyrus shrugged, “The yellow and blue ones should last though, so the garden should hold together for a good long while! Isn't that great!?”

“Yeah, we need to...talk about that.” Sans said, already feeling guilty about this. He couldn't imagine how much work must have gone into that setup. Had the larger skeleton even slept last night? How on earth could a monster have this much energy? “Look, I told you yesterday, that we can't...I'm not going to date you. Or be in a relationship with you. Or anything. You seem like a really nice guy, and I'm sorry to be blunt, but it's just not going to happen. The garden was very nice, but I don't want it...sorry.” he added in, cringing as Papyrus looked more and more hurt with every word, “maybe you could move it to outside your house? It’s very pretty. But it can't stay in front of my lodge.”

“Shed,” Papyrus said sadly, “Sans, you live in a shed.”

Sans twitched. “Fine, then it can't stay in front of my -shed-. Either way. It's gotta go. And you can't do anything like that anymore. It's not...people will talk.”

“Talk about what an adorable couple we make, certainly,” Papyrus nodded, putting up his hand as Sans tried to interject, “I know, that's not what you meant. But it is what -I- mean. Honestly, Sans, once we actually get together and continue to be so for awhile, everyone's going to forget about all this 'curse' nonsense. And who cares what they think anyway? I'm not -just- trying to date you just because it would make your life considerably better in a very tangible way. I'm also very in love with you.”

Sans leaned away from Papyrus, raising an eyebrow. “What? Mister, you don't even know me. We met yesterday.”

Papyrus laughed at this, and then gently smiled. “Sorry, what can I say? I loved you from the very first second I saw you. My heart...it's like trying to hold electricity, just looking at you. It burns at me, shocks me to my core, fills me with light, entirely overwhelming and far more powerful than any other sense, this just... need. For you.”

Papyrus notes the look on Sans face and laughed again, “I understand that sounds crazy, I really do. But trying to deny this feeling would be like trying to deny the existence of the barrier to me. It's just...too tangible. Inescapable.” Papyrus laughed, something shy in him now as he stepped back, looking suddenly sheepish and uneasy, “I can...understand if that all seems a bit much. But it’s how I feel.”

Sans didn't know what to say. Nothing like this had ever been said to him before. Halfway through the speech Sans had genuinely wondered if Papyrus might actually be messing with him, because honestly, how could he not be? How could anyone feel this way about something like him? Didn't Papyrus see what he was talking too? But Sans was pretty good at reading people's expressions, and the large skeleton-monster just seemed so...sincere.

“Papyrus...you can't actually...we've -just- met.” Sans stressed desperately. “It was -literally- yesterday!”

Papyrus merely shrugged and smiled.

More than anything, Sans felt wracked with a nameless guilt. This was his fault, in some way. He was certain of it. Something he had done had clearly managed to trick this sweet guy into thinking the world of him in no time at all, which was, just, baffling.

Papyrus was just standing there now, watching as Sans tried to process this. Okay. Okay. This was a lot. And Sans was still having a hard time believing any of it was real. He had to think. He had to stop. He had to think.

“...Could we...” Sans shrugged, grinning warily at Papyrus, “Could we just try being friends first?”

Papyrus frowned, “Huh?”

“Ya know...just hanging out?” Sans said, though he felt his stomach curl at the idea. His last 'hang out' buddy had died too, after all. “Platonically? Just...look, if you got to know me, you'd get over this. I'm really, really not all that great. In fact, generally speaking, I'm kind of terrible. I don't know what it is you see in me, but trust me, it's not there. But, okay, you need to get to know me to see that.” Sans was half talking to himself now as Papyrus just looked down at him, concerned, “So, we'll hang out, and you can actually get to find out who I am and stuff, and when you see what I'm like, then we can get past this. Right? Right. That would work. What do you think?”

“So...” Papyrus tried, “you want to date me-”

“Hang out,” Sans stressed.

“-so that you can convince me you're not worth dating?” Papyrus finished, undaunted by the interruption, “That's...kind of depressing, Sans.”

Sans shrugged, that tight smile still on his face. “See? It's already working.”

Papyrus closed his eyes and thought about this, humming to himself slightly before opening his eyes and beaming. “Fine! Challenge accepted! You will try to convince me you are unlovable, and I, in turn, will love you until you give in to it! We shall see who wins in this game of courtship! Nyehehehehehehe!” Papyrus cackled, posing as, once again, wind blew dramatically at just the right time. It -had- to be something to do with his magic. Otherwise it was just uncanny. 

Papyrus then stopped and said, cheerfully, “How about a movie tonight? My house?”

For a moment, Sans wanted to say that he'd feel more comfortable out in public, with other people in a less intimate setting, but then he imagined all the staring he would get. The whispers. Thought about potentially Shyrens' sister hearing about it...and feeling repulsed at his own deception and cowardice, he said, “Yeah, okay, for a little while. I have to get up early tomorrow for the morning rush.”

“Excellent! I shall say hi to you in the morning then as well, before I start my patrol! Speaking of which, I should probably finish the one I've been putting on pause this whole time. Honestly, Sans, your issues are already proving very distracting. It's a good thing I'm so good at multi-tasking! I shall see you tonight! Nyehehehehe!”

And he was off, heading deeper into the woods. Sans watched him go and sighed.

He had done his best.

They weren't dating.

All Papyrus needed was time. He'd see what a mistake this was, and both of them could go on with their lives. He just needed to see how frustrating and boring it was to hang out with the other skeleton, and then he’d avoid him, and the Sans would be alone again, and everything would be -fine-.

In fact, just to be certain… Sans sighed, and then started working on a gameplan in his head.

-

“Uh,” Sans gave Papyrus a weak smile as the large skeleton opened up the door after the first knock, clearly excited to see him. “Sup.”

“‘Sup!’” Papyrus mimicked, smiling brightly down at the other skeleton as he opened the door wide for him, assuring him in, “Please, please, come in! I’m so glad you actually came! You seemed sorta on the fence about it earlier. Have you eaten yet?”

“Yeah, ate at work. And I said I was coming,” Sans said as he walked into the house, trying very hard not to look around the house immediately to compare it to his own place and failing miserably in doing so. “Look, I know I said it already but...just so we're clear. This is not a date. This is just a hang-out.”

“Of course, of course,” Papyrus said distractedly, guiding Sans into his immaculate home. Not a pillow-cushion was out of place, as far as Sans could see. Papyrus either took great pride in his home, or was a compulsive neat freak. Maybe a combination of both, as the large skeleton immediately headed to the kitchen. “What can I get you? I'm afraid I don't carry any human food, not one for it myself, but I have plenty of tea and such!”

“Uh, sure.” Sans said, placing himself on the couch for lack of better ideas, his hands still dug into his parka jackets as he sat feeling vaguely uncomfortable and out of place, “I don't really know teas, so whatever you'd recommend.”

“I prefer Golden Flower Tea, myself. It’s a warriors choice! Nyehehehe! At least that’s what Undyne says.” Papyrus said, eyeing a yellow container before glancing over at Sans and then shaking his head, “Somehow I don’t think you’d like it. Sea Tea might be more your speed. While its brewing, I was thinking about what we can watch, and I was thinking-!”

“Uh, I actually brought something,” Sans’s interrupted, pulling out a disc from his jacket pocket, “if that’s cool?”

Papyrus seemed to hesitate, startled, what? Sans wasn’t sure, but whatever it was Papyrus seemed to get over it after a second, smiling brightly at Sans, “Of course! Wowie, I’m literally standing here racking my skull trying to guess what you might have brought! I’m going to guess, you have to tell me if I get it right!”

“Heh, okay,” Sans said, feeling a flutter of affection as Papyrus’s face scrunched in concentration, before immediately trying to bury it. That wasn’t the point of the night. It was, in fact, the total opposite of the point of the night. Now sitting in the gloom of his own guilt, Sans said to Papyrus, “shoot.”

“Okay,” Papyrus said as he continued making the tea, “Now, I know you’re into smart things...”

“I am?” Sans said, leaning against the arm rest as he raised a brow at Papyrus, “How’d you hear about that?”

“I am very good!” Papyrus bragged, taking out some cups, “There is not a lot that gets past me. So yes, smart things. Science stuff! So...perhaps a documentary?”

Sans shook his head, though Papyrus’s back was turned to him, “Nah. Good guess though. Did you wanna take ‘nother one?”

“Yes! Okay, hmm…” Papyrus came back with two cups of tea, passing Sans his cup, Sans handing Papyrus the disc in exchange, “Undyne has told me quite a bit about the great Doctor Alphy’s devotion towards human history cartoons! Do you share her fascination?”

Oh man, Alphy’s. Sans hadn’t thought about her in ages, and felt vaguely guilty about it. When he had ruined everything by destroying his project, he knew from his dad that, even though he had only known Alphy’s through her work with his father, she had been one of his strongest advocates when it came to extending his deadline for him to re-do his project. He hadn’t taken advantage of it, but he still appreciated the effort she had gone to for him, even though he had never told her. Ah well...just another fuck up in Sans long list of them. Add it to the pile.

“Anime? It’s alright. I’ve seen one or two I liked. But nah again. Just pop it in Papyrus.” Sans winked, and then blushed, and then wanted to punch himself in the face. Opposite! Of the! Point! “ Um, I mean...look, you might not like what I picked out. If so, that’s fine, I should probably be going home soon anyway-”

“Nonsense! I’m certain I will love…” the disc popped in and the light of the television went bright, intense, edgy music filling the room, “...SAW13: Return of the Tricycle?”

Sans laughed nervously above the din of the music as various random, violent images flooded the menu screen, Papyrus looking more concerned with each display of some bloody, screaming human, “Y-yeah! It’s, uh, it’s a classic! Best of the series. Which, ya know, I love. Love this series. It’s, uh,” Sans was also getting more and more concerned as the menu looped through more violent images, “my faiv.”

“Really?” Papyrus said, disbelief lacing his words obviously, “SAW is your favorite series? I...wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“Yeah, hehe, you know. Half-naked B-list actors, covered in blood and, uh, getting cut in half. Can’t get any better then- oh geez,” Sans winced when the menu, idle for too long, showed a partial bit of some random scene, where some blond girl was getting decapitated very, very slowly, “Yeah, it’s...not for everyone. I can totally understand if you’d rather just drop the whole thing, I mean, we probably don’t have similar tastes…”

Papyrus closed his eyes and put a finger to his chin, looking intensely thoughtful for a moment before popping his eyes open, smiling wide down at Sans. “Not at all! I mean, admittedly this isn’t something I would go out of my way to watch, certainly. But! I’ve found that there is very little I can engage in that I can’t find some joy or interest in. Sometimes it’s just about keeping an open mind! I, The Great Papyrus, accept this new challenge with open eyes! Nyehehehe!”

Then Papyrus sat down next to Sans, very closely, with his tea in his hands and a delighted look on his face as he said, “Ready?”

Right. Fuck. Sans actually had to watch this movie now. Sans had, in fact, never seen any of the SAW series past the first one, a movie which had seemed a little willfully blind to the holes in its own philosophies. He had left the film a little grossed out and otherwise unimpressed. According the word of mouth, the movies went on to only get more violent and less concerned with the original premise of its own prompt, and Sans had yet to hear anyone talk about its thirteenth installment at all, which suggested it had really just gone downhill from there.

Sans had sorta hoped that Papyrus would have been so uncomfortable with the choice immediately that he would have just wanted to run from Sans as fast as possible. He hadn’t expected Papyrus to be, just...really accommodating and upbeat about it. 

Geez…

As Papyrus pressed play, Sans tried his best to undo the situation, offering weakly, “We, uh, we could always watch something else, Paps.”

“‘Paps’? That’s cute, I like that. And of course not Sans! This is your favorite series! Of course I’m willing to give it a shot. Who know, maybe I’ll...oh dear, that young human really should not put his hands in there.” Papyrus said, looking meaningfully at something in the background of the scene.

A minute and a blood-curdling scream later, Papyrus was proven right.

Twenty minutes went by, with Papyrus making small comments every now and then and Sans wincing quite a bit. This movie was apparently playing with the idea of, gasp, what if the torturing kidnappers were actually -bad people-, a branch of thought from the philosophies in the first movie that explored the idea of just torturing people because they didn’t like them, rather then because they had ‘earned’ it. It was self-important dribble that was barely touched upon or explored in-between the gratuitous violence that was featured in every scene, and whoo boy, the violence was something. Sans felt vaguely nauseous as the movie went on and honestly would have rather taken a nap then continue watching, but Papyrus seemed determined to remain engaged both with the film and with his couch-mate. Every time Sans finally felt his mind wander away from what he was looking at, Papyrus would bring something up or point something out, bringing Sans back into the show. Back into the latest tacky if realistic looking display of horror.

Papyrus, in turn, seemed oddly neutral about the whole thing.

Perhaps Papyrus simply had an easier time with graphic, but fake, images then Sans did, but the guardsman seemed largely most affected (and by ‘affected’ it’s meant ‘annoyed’) by the self destructive and stupid choices of the characters. Everytime a human wandered blindly face forward into their death, Papyrus would loudly scold the humans, explaining to the screen as they gave their dying screams exactly how they could have easily prevented their fates.

It was funny, if a little strange, and Sans found himself looking forward to his companions outrage over every dumb choice the actors made. It almost made this fun. Which was terrible. This whole thing was supposed to be the opposite of fun. Just another failure by the pathetic Sans...heh.

Perhaps Papyrus had heard the slight sigh Sans gave. He turned to look at him as two more actors walked into a room that was obviously going to melt their feet, and said gently, “Sans...is this actually you’re favorite series?”

Sans gave Papyrus a long look, considered lying, and then shrugged. “Nah. I kinda hate it. Sorta thought you’d hate it too. Figured that would work.”

“And by ‘work’,” Papyrus sighed, “you mean it would have persuaded me to dislike you, yes?”

Sans just shrugged again.

“Honestly,” Papyrus chuckled to himself a bit, leaning back into the couch, as on the screen the actors feet started melting through their shoes, “Is it something wrong with me, Sans? Should I have picked better clothes? Do you not like the basketball shoulder pads?”

Actually, he had thought those were hilarious. “Nah, Paps. Sorry. I just...you see these two guys?” Sans said, pointing to the two characters who were both trying to crawl on top of each other to escape the melting floor. “See how all of their stupid choices led to their whole world literally melting around them? That’s my. whole. life.” Sans said, deadpan. “All of it. Only instead of melting, I’m living in a hovel that freezes at night because it was never actually meant to be slept in. And I chose that when I was, heh, trying to make things ‘better’. I’m a walking disaster. And honestly, I’d just rather give up trying to make things better, than deal with watching all my attempts fail over and over again.”

“And… I would be an attempt?” Papyrus said, something sounding slightly hopeful, smiling brightly at Sans, “at things being better for you?”

“Yeah,” Sans shrugged, “Sure. ‘course. You’re awesome.”

“Nyehehehe!” Papyrus keened, wiggling in his seat with joy, “if you feel that way, then there’s still hope!”

“No,” Sans sighed, rubbing at his skull, “no, there’s not. I’m not going to do it, Papyrus. I’m sorry.”

“You just feel like that now,” Papyrus said, total certainty in his tone. On the television, the scene changed, leaving it a cliffhanger which of the men survived the melting room. A woman was, apparently, using a lull in her murder filled day to take a wash in the river. “I know you’ll change your mind. You and I are going to get the happy ending, Sans. Unlike this idiot, who is absolutely going to die in that river. I bet…” Papyrus searched the background of the scene, “...she gets caught under that broken motorboat and drowns.”

Sans shrugged, just feeling tired. “I donno. You guessed the last three deaths, Paps, so I’m gonna follow your lead on this. You’re good at predicting plot twists.”

“Some things just seem obvious,” Papyrus said, noting the camera pan to a broken anchor chain from the motorboat for half a second before going back to the naked lady, “it barely counts as a puzzle if the solution is that played out.”

The two watched the scene play out, because it was slightly easier than thinking about the situation between them. When the girl drowned underneath the motorboat, caught in the chain, Papyrus cheered. 

Then, out of nowhere, Papyrus looked over at Sans and said. “Your shed is cold?”

-

Sans went home a little over an hour later. Despite himself, he had had a lot of fun. He went to bed feeling conflicted and guilty, but found those moments broken up by laughter as he remembered Papyrus’s happy cheers, every time he correctly guessed the ‘puzzles’ before the movie showed its deadly answers. Sans was actually little impressed. Papyrus had taken a, frankly, terrible movie, and made it...fun.

What a cool guy.

Papyrus, in turn, never slept. When his best friend showed up, the two discussed something at length, and then got to work.

-

The next morning, Sans phone-alarm switched on early. He went to switch it off, already deciding to sleep past the morning rush (his still groggy mind couldn’t work fast enough to explain to him why this was a bad idea), and it was while he was snuggling into his bed (it was so warm and toasty this morning. Was it always this warm and toasty in his bed?) that he smelled it.

Was that...bacon?

Blearily, more motivated by stupid bafflement than anything else, Sans followed the source of the smell to his front door, opening it and looking down.

There was a hotplate on his porch.

Which was very strange, since he didn’t have a porch.

The words ‘stupid bafflement’ have already been used once by this point, but they were still the only words that really accurately expressed Sans state of mind as the small skeleton walked out of the lodge, stepping gently on the inexplicable porch just in case it wasn’t stable, moving to the sidewalk so he could take in the sudden dozen impossible things his peripheral vision was trying to clue him in on.

...How?

...How!?!

In the night, while Sans had slept, someone (Someone. Heh. Like he couldn’t immediately guess) had managed to elevate his lodge from sitting straight on the ground to being stilted maybe...five? Feet off the ground? Tall enough, anyway, install a head system beneath the flooring (well, that explained the warmth this morning), and to accommodate the new height difference, a porch had been built in the front of his lodge.

Also, the lodge had been painted. Several lovely shades of blue.

… h o w? !

Overnight, without Sans being aware of it at -all-, his lodge had been made to look like an...actual house. A tiny house, certainly, but between the paint job and the porch and the garden (which was still there. Papyrus had promised…) it all looked... quaint. Charming, even. Someone (heh heh heh) had remodeled his -house-.

And made him breakfast.

“Sans,” a voice said behind him, and to his credit the skeleton only jumped maybe a foot in the air as Miss Rabbit clutched at his shoulders, her eyes wide and full of wonder as she cooed, “Oh my god! Sans! What happened!? That’s amazing! You’re shed is so cute!”

“Lodge,” Sans said automatically, looking over behind Ms. Rabbit, where her aunt, Miss Rabbit, was openly taking pictures of his lodge with her camera-phone. Oh god, he was going to be viral by the end of the day, -again-, he just fucking knew it. “And, uh...I think...the new guardsman? Might have done this…”

“That Papyrus boy?” Miss Rabbit guessed, texting something on her phone before putting it away, “After the garden thing the other day, I don’t doubt it. That’s incredible. If my wife, bless her soul, was still around, she’d be furious. She and Lola’s husband, bless his soul, used to take a lot of pride in doing these big romantic gestures for me and my sister, but in comparison to something like this? Papyrus is raising the bar in this town, let me tell you. Doll, you tell that wolf boy of yours that you ain’t going on another date till he paints the damn house. Or at least makes you breakfast.”

“Oh auntie, hush.” Ms. Rabbit giggled, turning to Sans and practically bouncing at the tip of her toes, “Oh, Sans, you’re so lucky!”

“Doll…” Miss Rabbit said, a touch of reprimand in her voice. Her niece didn’t always think before speaking, and probably hadn’t noticed Sans flinch at the comment.

Ms. Rabbit continued on regardless, “Oh, but it’s so romantic! First that declaration at the bar, then the garden, then this! Oh Sans, please tell me you’re gonna let Papyrus take you on a date! It would be so cruel to say no after this!”

“Doll!” Miss Rabbit said, this time more forceful, finally getting her niece's attention, who got meek upon seeing the look on her aunt’s face. “Now, enough of that. You ain’t got no business telling the boy who he should and shouldn’t be dating. You remember, sweetie, gifts ain’t an equal exchange for love, I don’t care them trash dating books that librarby lends out say. Still, that said,” Miss Rabbit gave Sans an equally stern look, who wilted a little bit under the stare, “Energetic, ambitious, kind, more than a little handsome, let’s be honest...the boys a catch. So if you -aren’t- gonna date him, Sans, I do hope it’s for a good reason, and it ain’t got nothing to do with all that curse nonsense the idiots all pass around.”

“...no?” Sans said, the lie stupid and obvious and why had he even said that? “I mean...not entirely?”

“Oh, Sans, even if you -are- cursed,” Ms. Rabbit, one of said idiots who passed that rumor around and sorta, kinda, believed in it, beamed, “Papyrus is a Royal Guardsman! If -anyone- could survive your curse, it’s him!”

Miss Rabbit sighed and and rubbed her temples, “Oh, Doll...you’re lucky you’re cute, kid.”

“Thanks, Auntie!” Ms. Rabbit beamed.

“I think, uh,” Sans said, desperately wanting out of this conversation, “I think I should go before that breakfast goes bad. Yeah. It’d be a…” Sans tried to think of a pun and was stumped, feeling absolutely rotten to have spoiled what seemed an obvious opportunity for one, settling on, “shame. Yeah. See ya around, ladies.”

Sans rushed inside, grabbing the hotplate as the rabbits waved him goodbye, feeling slightly less overwhelmed back in the inside of his lodge. At least this place looked its normal decrepit self (with the exception of how comfortably warm it was). Opening up the hot plate, he saw largely what his sense of smell had suggested: an omelet, some bacon, asparagus, hash browns, and ham.

Ham cut into the shape of Papyrus’s head. On the omelet, written in all caps in ketchup, was the words MORNING, SANS!, with a little line suggesting it was the Papyrus Ham saying the ketchup words.

It was...adorable.

Sans felt his soul thump in his chest, a metaphorical lump in his throat. He scratched the inside of his eyesocket absentmindedly, sweating slightly. There was a...feeling, inside of his ribs. It twisted and fluttered, like...birds. Or butterflies.

Flattered. He realized suddenly. He was flattered.

Fuck. He was -thrilled-.

Sans felt his face burning from end to end and, sitting on his bed, grabbed a pillow and squeezed it as tightly as he could as this feeling of being...special? And desired. And...fuck. It rocked through his body, and Sans could feel the need to...kick. And make some stupid keen, squealing noise. Just fighting to erupt from his body.

Not once, in his whole life, had anyone ever done -anything- like this before for him.

People didn’t -do- things like this!

It was like the garden, but (better) worse. Because the garden had been, well, let’s face it, was a little silly. A strange gift from a strange monster. Extravagant and beautiful, certainly, but just so damned silly. Easy to put behind him, with time. But this wasn’t like that. His home was warm and comfortable. He thought of all the times he had to straight up teleport out of his lodge because opening up the door was just impossible against the snow, and how that wasn’t going to be a problem anymore because the porch had been built with a roof over it, and how the paint job just...made it seem like his living situation wasn’t…as pathetic? As it was?

Like his life wasn’t as thoroughly and totally fucked up as he had made it?

Like overnight, Papyrus had managed to improve his quality of life in three small ways that Sans, had he even thought to do it, would have never, ever gotten the will to do himself.

And that was just...amazing.

So cool.

Papyrus was so, so cool.

And he...liked something like -Sans-!?

Who was the opposite of cool.

Who was lazy, and a fuck up, and shabby, and oh, who was also probably cursed, and even if he wasn’t cursed, it was still his fault, and he -had to stop-.

Heh. Heh.

...Sans ate the breakfast. He saved the ham for last and kept finding himself giggling at it. Just laughing to himself, his face randomly burning up. He wanted to kick his legs. He wanted to pace his lodge. He was happy. He had to stop. He was -happy-.

Hehehehehe.

What was he going to do!?

-

He had missed, again, the morning rush, which was a problem that Sans was seriously going to have to think about soon, but the events of that morning and the breakfast (which had, admittedly, tasted..strange. Not bad. It was more like all the food had all tasted weirdly the same, which had taken a moment to get used to. Sans had liked it though. He had relished it.) had given him a sort of energy he couldn’t remember feeling in a long time. So, he opened his stall in Waterfall early, hoping to gain some of that money back even before the lunch rush.

Maybe it was his cheerful attitude, a truly sincere grin stretching across his face for the day, that drew in the extra customers, but he did seem to have more business that day then he’d otherwise get. It wasn’t enough money to make up for missing the morning by a long shot, but it felt good, being social with his regulars and friendly to the less familiar faces. It was a highly positive experience after such an adrenaline filled morning, and Sans was practically floating on air by the afternoon.

Then something shifted.

_is she here?_

Sans froze.

_who cares? is **he** here?_

_(hush. patience.)_

_shyra…_

Sans blinked. He didn’t know why, but he felt...strange. Foggy. Distracted. It suddenly occurred to him that Shyren’s sister, Shyra (when...had he learned her name?) could be here, and he looked around for her before, just as suddenly, he felt resentful of having done so. Who cared if she was here? Where was Papyrus? He should be looking for Papyrus. He had something important to say to Papyrus...no. Wait. A sense of calm came over him. No he didn’t. He just needed to wait. Everything was going to be fine. His mind went back to Shrya and he felt...sad. Inexplicably sad. Why?

Heh. Probably because she wouldn’t like how happy Sans was today. Sans didn’t deserve to be happy after what had happened to-

_no. shyra is not like that. she was sad and scared. she would not begrudge your happiness…_

No. Sans wasn’t being fair. He couldn’t blame his fear of dating on Shyra. Her sister had just died. He had brought himself to forgive what Astigmatism’s father had done. He could forgive a grieving siren who had simply felt like she needed to help in some way.

_that guy was a dick_

Though that guy -had- been a dick.

_( enough. Stop.)_

Sans felt his mind clear up and took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what that had been. He had felt...dizzy? Sort of? Was he getting sick?

“So,” said an incredibly cheerful voice high above him, “Blue. Did we get it right?”

Again, to Sans credit, he only jumped a few feet as he was shocked by Papyrus’s sudden presence. “P-papyrus? What are you doing in Waterfall?” Sans asked, wondering how lost in his own head he had to have been to not see Papyrus’s shining armor approaching his stall. His mind caught up to the conversation and he asked, “Blue?”

“Your shed.” Papyrus said, smiling brightly down at him, and good gosh, it was warm in Waterfall, wasn’t it. “I’m not fishing for compliments, you should know. The blue paint was actually my friends idea, and I just know he’d love to know what you thought of it. But he doesn’t like approaching people himself if he can help it, so...what did you think? Did he guess your color right? Or was it silly to base it on the color of your magic?”

“Oh, it…” Sans felt himself at a loss of words. That feeling was almost constant, lately. Didn’t he used to want to be a comedian, once upon a time? Hadn’t he been -good- at gab? What happened to -that- Sans? Other than a fall, an overdose, a tree branch… “It was amazing,” Sans said, finally just going for honest, for lack of better ideas, “I loved it, it looks incredible. It reminds me of the sky.”

“Weird, since you haven't seen the sky, but okay! Great! Flowey will be thrilled you like it.” Papyrus laughed, giving the smaller skeleton a thumbs up, who just couldn’t stop looking at the other monster in open awe. How did someone this perfect...exist? “And please, spare me words about my cooking. I’m painfully aware that it could have been better. You should have tried it a year ago!” Papyrus laughed, “Inedible! Well, practice makes perfect. And I, the Great Papyrus, intend to be perfect at all I practice at! So it’ll get there. What about the repairs? I wanted to make the porch longer, but I had to choose between getting it done by the time you got up or getting more supplies...I don’t know. Was it alright, the size it was? I could dismantle it and try again.”

Tell him that he overstepped his boundaries, Sans told himself (he thought) sternly. Tell him that this was entirely out of line, and that Sans had no intention of going on an actual date no matter how many wonderful, incredible things Papyrus did for him. Tell him a bunch of other sensible, responsible things like that…

Sans couldn’t.

He was too in awe to even consider it.

So, instead, he said, his voice painfully shy even to his own metaphorical ears, “How...did you do this? In a night, I mean. That was, uh...incredible. How did I not wake up?”

Papyrus laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’d like to say I’m just -that- incredible, as you say, but the truth is I think I accidentally full-bodied slammed into your door at one point when I was putting in the porch, and my friend literally dropped your lodge the first time we tried putting the the heater under, and you -still- didn’t wake up. For your lack of skills in most other things, Sans, you are an -expert- sleeper!” Papyrus complimented brightly. Sans nodded along, still in awe.

_fucking dick_

_(you told him similar things. it worried me often.)_

_i was never that bad._

_(no. you were worst.)_

_quiet. please. we need to focus_

“Sans?” Papyrus said, waving a hand in front of the other skeleton, who was now staring blankly at nothing, “Are you still with me?”

Sans blinked, feeling the fog in his head clear. “Sorry.” Sans said, not sure how to explain what had just happened to him, even to himself. He had found himself suddenly annoyed with Papyrus, and then annoyed with Astigmatism, of all people, and then had worried he wasn’t paying attention enough. Which, considering how badly he had just spaced out, was probably a valid concern, “I keep fading out today.”

Papyrus’s brow furrowed in concern, “Oh dear. Are you sick? Let me feel,” Papyrus took off his metal glove and put Sans cheek in the palm of his hands, feeling behind his neck. Sans felt his face brighten like a flame. “Nyahaha, well, you seem warm, but that just might be from me.” Papyrus said, giving Sans a knowing wink, before the concern came back, “Unless you are actually just warm with fever, in which case would you like me to help you home?”

God he was just...so fucking cool.

“I haven't thanked you yet,” Sans suddenly realized, feeling stupid and self centered and goodness, Papyrus was handsome, wasn’t he? Miss Rabbit was right. He was a catch. Gods, what was Sans going to do? “So...thanks. Everything was amazing. You’re amazing.”

Sans didn’t care that he had never seen it. In that moment, he knew for a fact that Papyrus’s smile could have outshone the sun.

-

“I’m a bad person.” Sans sobbed into the counter. “I’m the worst. Just dust me. The underground will be better for it.”

Grillby sighed, still cleaning up for the night. All the rest of his patrons were gone, but Grillby often let Sans stick around until the lights were actually off and he was heading out.

Especially when he was like this.

“......................you’re being overdramatic. I don’t understand how we got from ‘everything is amazing and I can’t believe life can be this wonderful’ to ‘please dust me’.”

“Because,” Sans sobbed, clutching a half empty bottle of ketchup to his chest weakly, “everything is wonderful, and he’s amazing, and I don’t deserve it, and I’m gonna fuck it all up, because that’s what I always do, Grillbz. And I just don’t want to be around for when I fuck it all up this time.”

“............”

“He's perfect and I'm trash.”

“...........first of all, I don't know how comfortable I am with you labeling this guy 'perfect'.” Grillby said honestly, putting the last of his dishes away before giving Sans his full attention. He wasn't even going to get started on how much it upset him to hear Sans refer to himself as trash. That was an old argument between the two by this point. “I understand that the last few days have been full of some pretty grand gestures, but I feel like you've forgotten you've only just met this man. He doesn't seem the bad sort, sure, but all of this is a bit...extreme. If this is what he does for a crush, I'd be frightened to see what he does when he's annoyed.”

“No, no, see, because he's so nice too,” Sans said, blearily looking up at Grillby, “Have you seen him around the teens and kids, Grillbz? They love him. Everyone loves him. He's so nice and energetic and-”

“............They love their new Royal Guardsman and they love watching this story play out, Sans.” Grillby said, trying to be stern, though if you asked him he might have a hard time explaining why he felt it was important Sans be aware of his suitors less than stellar side. Certainly everyone was allowed that initial crush glow, before the pressing reality of actually getting to know said crush set in? Why deny Sans the fun of the honeymoon phase?

Grillby supposed it had something to do with how certain he felt, every time he looked at the new guardsman, that he was forgetting something... “Everyone in town has only just met him as well, and not a one of us has actually gotten to know him yet. Again, I am not trying to dismiss the nice things he's done for you, but I would stress that there's likely plenty about him that you don't know of yet, and you need to be conscious of that.”

“Probably a bunch of other amazing things,” Sans muttered, ignoring Grillby's annoyed look, “Just more things on top of his carpentry skills, and his fighting skills, and his, well, I think he might be cooking his food in some weird oil or something, I don't know, but fuck, Grillbz, at least he cooks. I don't cook. I don't do anything. I suck. I'm a loser who sells hot dogs. I don't even cook those. I just warm them up. Fucking pathetic.”

“.........Now, we both know you could have a better job by now if you wanted, Sans.” Grillby said, feeling more and more like the 'dad' friend as Sans gave him a self-disgusted look as Grillby brought up (another) old argument between them, “The lab said they'd give you another chance to turn in an application project.”

“Only because Doctor Gastor is my dad.” Sans said, Determined to put himself down in every sense, “Which is stupid. They gave me my shot and I blew it. End of story.”

“.........It was a fluke accident. It could have happened to anyone, especially in a place as dangerous as Hotlands.”

“My whole life is a fluke accident.” Sans muttered. He heard Grillby sigh and flinched, giving his friend a pathetic look as he realized he was maybe being a tad too difficult on the fire-monster. “I'm sorry. I know, I know, you're right. It's just...hard for me to see that stuff. And yeah, fine, Papyrus is a little full of himself and probably a little crazy, honestly. Okay, I can see that. But at least he's the -good- kind of crazy. The kind of crazy that actually gets stuff done, and helps people, and...I just don't know what he sees in me.”

Grillby sighed again, “Sans, I'd be happy to explain to you all the admirable things about yourself, but I need to close up my bar. Plus, you've perhaps over-indulged yourself on my wares tonight. Let me lock up and I'll walk you home.”

“Have you seen what he's done to the lodge yet, Grillbz!?” Sans said, having forgotten that he had already asked Grillby this twice that night, following the fire-monster out of his bar and allowing himself to be led back home. “It's amazing. I still don't know how he did it. He had a friend who can apparently lift the whole thing by himself? And they painted it. And I have a porch now. Did I tell you?”

Sans didn't live far, and it wasn't long before Grillby saw the upcoming 'lodge', his eyes squinting suspiciously before asking Sans, “Did you leave your lights on Sans? And is that wheelbarrow with the bed in it parked out front yours?”

Sans blinked blearily through his drunken fog. “...no?” he looked again, “Uh. The bed is though.”

Grillby put a hand on Sans shoulder, “Stay here. Let me go take a look first. If I shout, go fetch the royal guard at once.”

“Grilbz, wait,” Sans said, drunkenly reaching out to stop his friend, which Grillby gently shook off, walking up to Sans lodge carefully, already building up the reserve magic inside of himself as he went up to the shed.

He got to the door and he heard voices inside. One voice he didn't recognize, but the other... “...........hello?”

Both voices went quiet. Then, a quick series of footsteps later, the front door open, a confused but then sheepish looking Papyrus inside, “Oh shoot,” Papyrus said, looking from Grillby to Sans, who was standing further back on the sidewalk, “is the bar closed already? I thought I had more time. Hello Grillby! Are you walking Sans home?”

Sans was suddenly at his side, but Grillby put another steadying hand on Sans shoulder, not sure how he felt as he questioned, “Yes. Papyrus, what are you doing in Sans home?”

“Oh no,” Sans said, though there was nothing upset in the tone. If anything Sans seemed drunkenly giddy at the sight of the taller monster, “It's gonna be another present.”

“Shoot!” Papyrus laughed, “It's not finished! Oh well...come in!” Papyrus said, apparently neither skeleton feeling awkward as Papyrus invited Sans into his own home, gesturing for Grillby to come in as well, “Voila! Like I said, it's not done, but you can see what I'm going for.”

They could. The lodge, tiny as it was, was completely painted and mostly refurnished. Grillby had never been inside of Sans home before, but he could tell the furniture was new: new chairs, a new table, a new bed, and Papyrus appeared to still be working on making new counters for the kitchen area. It was...

“Amazing.” Sans said, awed.

“.......a total violation of privacy.” Grillby said at the exact same time, turning a scolding eye to the new guardsman, “Papyrus, you cannot break into people homes and take their things, even for good reasons. You need to apologize immediately.”

“I do?” Papyrus said, looking more and more meek as he smiled uncertainly at the flame-monster, “I apologize, Grillby.”

“...........no, not to me.” Grillby said, cursing himself. Why was his life suddenly full of willfully stupid skeleton-monsters? “To Sans. You've broken into his home. It's highly inappropriate.”

“It's amazing,” Sans said, his eyes taking in the new features of his home, unable to hide his joy and astonishment in his state, “Grillby, look! I have a table! And chairs!”

Grillby sighed, and Papyrus just laughed and shrugged. “He seems to like it. Thank you for making sure he got safely home, Grillby. I can take it from here.”

Grillby hesitated. “What?” the flame-monster looked down at Sans, feeling highly uncomfortable as he said, “Sans, would you like me to-”

“I'm okay, Grilbz,” Sans said, patting the bartenders arm reassuringly, smiling widely, “Papyrus is a good guy. Everything's fine. Thanks man.”

The flame-monster wanted to protest. Nothing about this was normal, couldn't either of them see that? This was...oh, fuck it. 

Perhaps Grillby was worrying too much. The two skeletons in question were beaming at each other, and the longer Grillby watched that the less certain he was that he ought to feel the way he was feeling.

“Just...you can call me.” Grillby said to Sans, “if you need anything. Anytime.” Grillby gave Papyrus a tense nod, before leaving, feeling entirely uncertain he was doing the right thing.

As Grillby left, Papyrus looked to Sans, openly surprised, “You have your bartenders number?”

“Grilbz ain't just my bartender, dudes a friend.” Sans said, swaying a bit and still looking at his newly furnished house in dazzled amazement, “At the moment, kind of my only friend, honestly. He's been there for me for a lot of...” Sans waved his hands vaguely, “it.”

“That's nice,” Papyrus said, closing the door behind Grillby's retreating form thoughtfully, “It's good to have friends. So! Like I said, it's not finished! If you like, I can come back tomorrow to screw in the cupboards. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes, honestly. I am very skilled in regards to screwing.”

Sans burst out into laughter, and then noting Papyrus's openly confused look, laughed harder. “Oh my god, you're so cool.” Sans said, taking a few steadying breaths before saying, “But Grillby's right, ya know. You shouldn't have done this. In fact you, uh, really got to stop doing...” Sans gestured towards the room, “this. I can't date you.”

“Why not?!” Papyrus said, looking genuinely distressed as Sans went to take a careful seat in one of his new chairs, still pretty obliterated by the human food. “I don't understand! Sans, please. What's wrong with me? Whatever it is, I can work on it! There is -nothing- too difficult for the Great Papyrus to accomplish! Just...name it!”

Sans sighed, digging the palms of his hands against the edge of his eyesockets, wishing he was way less drunk for this conversation. Papyrus sounded so genuinely upset. God, Sans was such a trashbag. A stupid, smiling trashbag. “It has nothing to do with you. You're amazing. You're, heh, 'great'. It's me. I suck. I can't do this. I...”

Sans dug his palms in harder, trying to fight the sudden, inexplicable desire to cry, “I can't do this. I can't do this again.”

Papyrus watched, feeling slightly powerless, as Sans lost the fight against his own tears, giving small little breaths as he tried to control himself, tears falling gently down. After a moment, Sans tried to speak, though the words were slightly choked, “It...every time. Every single time it looks like it’s gonna get better...nothing ever gets better, Papyrus. Not for me. Not for anyone who puts their lot in with me. You deserve so much better than me, Papyrus.”

Sans was going to keep talking, to explain just what a disaster he was, but he was startled when large arms suddenly wrapped around him. Papyrus had crossed the room and knelt down, pulling Sans into a long, firm hug. Sans could feel the heat of the other monsters magic as Papyrus emitted out soothing, calming emotion at him, his bones warms from it. Sans tried to remember the last time someone had held him like this...and just started crying harder. “I'm gonna ruin you.” he sobbed into Papyrus's shoulder.

“Nonsense,” Papyrus said gently, rubbing Sans back, undisturbed by the tears. “You couldn't. Whatever terrible thing you think is around the corner, it's going to have to deal with me before it can ever get anywhere near you. I'm not going to let anything happen to us, Sans. I have total control over the situation. You can believe in me. Just...” Papyrus disentangled himself from around Sans, leaning back so Sans could see his face, that sincere desire to protect coming through his eyes, “let me prove it to you. Please? Give me one chance.”

Papyrus gripped both of Sans shoulders hard, a serious expression hardening his face. “I will not let anything bad happen to us. I promise.”

Sans stared at the kind, desperate face, before giving a shaky smile back. “Sure.” he said. “Sure. How can I say no to something like that. I...I honestly can't think of how to say no to something like that. Sure.”

Sans laughed, and gave up, feeling thrilled to do it.

“Where do you want to go for our date?”

-

A long time ago, Waterfall flowed along, as it had for so long before this moment, and would continue to do for so long after. At its tides, the two monsters played together, skipping pebbles the best they could.

“Because...” the Prince of Monsters collecting more pebbles as his latest one sank into the depth, thinking, “it's to always have a piece of them with us, right? The monsters we lost?”

The old turtle laughed. “You're not wrong.” he said, touching his own brow with his fingers lightly, “it's certainly nice to think of it that way.”

The prince looked up at the turtle thoughtfully, before saying, “But that's not the right answer though.”

“No,” the turtle said, drawing something into the dirt of the cave with a stick, “It's not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbc


	4. Tags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd explain why this chapter took so long, but look at its size. I think you can guess.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the incredibly lovely comments (they make my day, every freaking day, seriously, they're priceless) and the sheer number of kudos this story has collected so far (I can't believe the story has hit over a hundred in its first three chapters 0_0 I'm so blown away, guys, thank you so much for the support).
> 
> Okay, so, warnings. Sex is on the horizon. Sex you expect. Sex you, uh, probably didn't expect. I know I didn't expect it. Just kinda...happened. Read the tags folks. They got updated with this chapter. 
> 
> Anyway, enough of that. I hope you guys enjoy : )

A couple of years ago.

 

Sans twiddled his thumbs as he sat in the lobby. Every now and again he'd glance over at the door, as if each glance would somehow will it to open. He felt nervous, and even worse than that, he felt out of place. He had bought a new outfit specifically for this interview, a semi-formal wear that at the time Sans had thought screamed youthful confidence; but, in this moment, on him, felt both overly desperate to impress and at the same time stupidly thoughtless.

 

Shabby. Why did everything he put on, no matter how new or carefully picked, always feel shabby?

 

Inside of him, somewhere, something shifted. A spark of guilt. A touch of regret.

 

Perhaps, in a bid to appease, a thought suddenly raced through Sans brain, loud and demanding. 'What are you nervous for anyway?' Sans thought he thought. 'Your dad is -literally- the boss. This interview is in the bag. They basically have to give it to you.'

 

Though the thought had been meant to raise Sans confidence, instead it sparked swirls of guilt and shame. Of course. Even if he did get in, it wasn't going to be for his own merit. Not really. Of course they weren't going to say no to Dr. Gastor. Even if his worthless kid had graduated with only a B average...

 

A new thought pushed its way in. Calming. Soothing. 'You shouldn't be ashamed. You managed to do reasonably well consistently throughout a childhood plagued by trauma. If anything, you proved yourself capable of handling stress and adversity that monsters in their golden years have failed to display.' Sans thought he thought, 'Besides, your proposal to make up for the lack of grades and job experience is more than fair. You will get the opportunity to prove yourself, outside of your fathers influence.'

 

'If they agree to the proposal,' Sans thought, once again glancing nervously up at the door. They were taking an awful long time to discuss it, weren't they...?

 

'If they agree to let you,' Sans thought he agreed.

 

The door opened. For a brief moment, Sans wanted to teleport away. He didn't want to know. He was suddenly certain, one hundred percent confident, then the scientists had spent the last thirty minutes just laughing at him. At his stupid proposal. As if an idiot like Sans could create a project that would prove he could do anything as impressive as his fathers legacy, as useful as the freaking -Core-...

 

It was Doctor Alphys who came out, surprisingly enough. Sans wondered why his father didn't come out himself to deliver the hard news...but then he saw the gentleness in the Doctors face, an affection in her gaze that was almost...proud?

 

“Sans?” Alphy's said, “You can come in now. And,” she noted the look on his face and laughed, a small, raspy sound that, at the moment, was the best thing Sans could have heard. “uh, you can relax.”

 

She smiled, and then gave him a small wink. “It's good news.”

 

-

 

Years later.

 

It might surprise you to know that the first date went really, really well.

 

The two skeletons had ended up choosing to take a walk through Waterfall the first date, the two talking idly to each other, getting to know one another, as they made their way to what was largely considered in the Underground to be the best spot to 'star' gaze. Once they had made it there, Sans pointed out formations in the rock patterns above that monsters in their past had given names too, as a homage to the star formations that existed outside of the mountain, and then after awhile Sans started practically gushing about what he knew when it came to actual, real formations. In that night, Papyrus learned quite more then he had ever suspected he would, about old religions and methods of navigation, and what all those tiny lights in the sky were actually supposed to be, some of the things so strange that Papyrus had a hard time believing them. Whole planets? Just...hanging, out there? Hanging on what?

 

Then Sans had tried explaining the concept of atmosphere, which was tough because Papyrus had really struggled to grasp the concept of a sky, and then gravitational pulls, and somehow all of that had led to something called dark matter...and Papyrus listened to it all, happy to let Sans enthusiasm for the subject wash over him.

 

Papyrus had walked Sans home, told him he had an amazing time, and asked if he could take him out again soon. Tomorrow?

 

And Sans had said yes.

 

-

 

Sans had been working like a mad man. The project was due in a mere three months. The project that would decide his fate. The one that would finally, finally, get him back on the right path!

 

As the skeleton worked late into another of what now seemed like countless nights, locked away in his room that he couldn't actually remember when the last time he left was, Sans once again worried that maybe he had bitten off more then he could chew. He had picked a project that did three things: one, worked well with his fascination towards the makeup of the universe; two, could later be expanded on with a proper grant and equipment to something that, theoretically, might actually be able to disrupt the matter of the barrier (a lofty goal, and probably impossible, but Sans felt so full of such hope lately that he half believed he could do anything); and three, even if it couldn't do the previous one, it was still impressive enough by itself that he could land a spot in the Royal Scientist Think Tank.

 

As he poured over the paperwork, he was full of both maddening fear and astounding self confidence. 

 

He could do this! 

 

Holy shit he -had- to do this. 

 

Which was fine, because he totally could do it! 

 

Because he had too, he just -had- too!

 

Mentally, he was calling the project 'The Machine', though of course this was only metaphorically. Sans didn't really have the engineering skills to actually put the thing together, not in the amount of time he was given with the tools at his disposal, but The Machine didn't actually have to exist to fulfill the rules of the project. He just had to write a reasonably concrete formula for it, backed by a provable thesis. Easy peasy, really! He could do this! He could totally do this!

 

There was a knock on his door, and Sans said nothing, knowing that it was going to open regardless of how much he needed to focus right now. As suspected, a mere moment after the knock, the door opened, and his father poked his head in.

 

“Have you eaten today?” His father said, as way of greeting. Sans looked up and waved, before shaking his head reluctantly, “You should come down then. I have made quiche.”

 

“Right, dad, I just...” Sans looked desperately down at the paper, the bit he was on far, far from done, “I just got this one thing...”

 

“Starving yourself starves your brain as well.” Doctor Gastor advised, his tone monotone and quiet, as it always was. His father couldn't help but sound that way. Sans had grown up reading his fathers emotions in his facial expressions and body language, both which were also slightly muted, but were more expressive then his voice. As Sans glanced up at his fathers face, he realized the old man was worried about him. “You will do yourself no favors by taking no breaks.”

 

“...Right. Okay.” Sans sighed, putting the pen down and backing away from the desk, “Quiche, huh? Is it any good?”

 

“How dare you,” his father said, the tone sounding perfectly serious, but a turn in the eyes expressing amusement and playfulness, “Everything I cook is delicious and you should be entirely grateful for all of it.”

 

“Even that pizza?” Sans teased playfully.

 

“Especially that pizza,” His father informed him, adding in matter of factly, “I have been assured by the king himself that the way I made it would have been very popular with certain regions of humans.”

 

“Humans with bad taste, I guess.”

 

Gastor whacked Sans lightly on the head, and Sans laughed.

 

-

 

The next several weeks went by fast. It was as if Sans had only blinked, and Papyrus had gone from being a somewhat strange addition to his background noise, to a standard part of his daily routine. But for how quickly it had seemed to happen, Sans relished the joy those weeks had brought. He found himself looking forward to getting up for the day, because Papyrus liked to knock on his door and say good morning to him before heading off to work, and most of their evenings were spent hanging out, quietly exploring some part of the Underground, or eating meals together, or playing games.

 

Papyrus had a head for puzzles and an enthusiasm for creating them, and Sans had found himself a willing test subject for the many puzzles that Papyrus had started littering around the Ruins to slow down any human that might wander through. Sans loved watching the taller skeleton just barely hold back from explaining to Sans how the puzzle worked before Sans had a chance to try solving it himself, and once Sans had completed it, would gush about every aspect of the creation process to Sans, who listened attentively. Papyrus's happiness was infectious. Sans felt himself getting lighter from it every day.

 

Sure, there was bad days. Sometimes Sans felt his melancholy ruin the atmosphere, and Papyrus sometimes got frustrated when nothing he did could shake him from it. Sometimes Papyrus was suddenly busy for days on end due to his work, and Sans found himself at the bar, going back and forth between telling Grillby how happy he was and moping about how much he missed him. Grillby himself, Sans could tell, didn't approve of Papyrus, and Papyrus, in turn, seemed to have a certain amount of tension on his shoulders whenever Grillby was around, and that worried Sans somewhat. He hoped time would reconcile things between the two, considering how important both of them were proving to be in his life.

 

But other then that, things were great!

 

…

 

Okay.

 

Sometimes people stared, too.

 

Sans wasn't sure if Papyrus noticed, but he did. A lot of the other monsters, at least outwardly, seemed happy for Sans: but he knew a lot of them were waiting for it. For a lot of them, this whole thing was another tragedy, waiting to set off. After all, it hadn't happened right away for his first two dates either. But it -had- happened. It always happened. Everyone was waiting for it.

 

If Sans was being honest with himself...he was kind of waiting for it too.

 

It was almost like how Papyrus had managed to guess the deaths of all those character in that movie before they had happened: Sans kept watching the background intensely, looking for clues, every bit of danger around them a possible culprit. While they walked, Sans found himself looking carefully at the branches of trees above their path: did any look loose? Every now and again Papyrus would eat something and clear his throat, and Sans breath would catch as he waited for Papyrus's eyes to bulge and his bones begin to shake, lethally ill from whatever he had just eaten.

 

He hated knowing that Papyrus regularly patrolled the mountain-sides. Anything could happen to him up there.

 

But he kept his fear to himself. Maybe Papyrus was right. Maybe believing in a curse was silly. Of course it was silly. It had always been silly...

 

…right?

 

Sans had a lot of nightmares. Sometimes Papyrus wasn't even in them. Sometimes the skin was green. Sometimes the eye was wide. Sometimes she screamed.

 

But all of them were about Papyrus.

 

-

 

It was the day.

 

It was -the- day.

 

Sans kept finding himself trembling at random moments, though he wasn't...afraid. Not necessarily. His work was -good-. He had been working on these papers day and night, and knew, -knew- that it was good. He held the satchel full of his hard work from the last six months and knew that not only was it good, it was...maybe even revolutionary.

 

Sans was privately, confidently, pretty fucking sure that he had figured out...time travel?

 

Or something close enough to call it that.

 

It hadn't been the intention of his research, but by the fifth month, it was where his work had ended up. If he was right (and he -was- right. He was -certain- of it) then his machine, The Machine...it could...potentially...

 

Any point in time. Any point in space. The Machine could reach it. Theoretically.

 

It would take years, of course. Years and a full research team and funds and a shit ton of trust from the King himself, who would have to risk a huge amount of resources towards its completion, but Sans was confident he could convince the Think Tank of his theory, and once he had them on his side, they in turn would turn the ear of the King.

 

It was revolutionary. It was important. It could change everything.

 

And it would be Sans...of ALL monsters...to do it.

 

Sans clutched the satchel close to himself and giggled.

 

That was...one hell of a better legacy then two dead partners.

 

Sans felt a stab of guilt at the thought, which had come unbidden, but painfully honest. No. No. That wasn't...that's wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to think of his old friends like that. What happened to them...he didn't want to think of them as an 'inconvenience' to him. They meant more then that. He owed them more respect then that.

 

But...it was still nice to think that maybe they wouldn't be the most important thing that had ever happened to him. Someday.

 

Someday soon.

 

Sans was currently in Hotlands, but he was early, and had decided to rest a bit before heading out through the last of the conveyor belts that would take him to The City. He was sitting on a public bench, enjoying the heat emitting from the nearby pools of lava. Skeleton-based monsters had a harder time feeling temperature then other monsters, so actually feeling hot was a somewhat niche experience, especially for a skeleton that grew up in Snowdin.

 

There were a few other monsters around, heading to work or to school or to wherever, and across the platform there was a monster running a hotdog stand. Sans, in his hurry to get to the labs, had neglected breakfast, but now in this moment he felt the ache of his depleted magical reserve, and decided, well, why not? He had plenty of time still.

 

Sans put the satchel down on the bench, and then hesitated. He should probably take it with him...but the hot dog stand was literally right there. Sans felt stupid at his own paranoia. What did he think would happen to it?

 

Almost in defiance of himself, Sans left the satchel on the bench, and walked across the platform to the stand.

 

The monster at the stand gave him a pleased smile as he approached, “Hey there. Looking for a dog? Got cats too. You have a prefer-”

 

Sans saw it in the monsters expression before he even heard the crack. Something was happening behind him. Something baffling and scary.

 

Despite the heat, Sans felt his bones turn cold.

 

He turned around.

 

no.

 

n o.

 

-

 

“The platform split in half?!” Papyrus said, his eyes wide with shock, “What do you mean the platform split in half!?”

 

Sans shrugged, the memory old enough to not burn at him anymore, but still painful enough to make his heart sink whenever he thought about it. “Some sort of crack formed at the bottom of the platform. The last theory I heard was that some sort of methane bubble managed its way out of the lava below and shot up at the platform like a bullet, but no one's really sure. It all happened so fast..a freak accident. Heh. I was told how lucky I was that I was on the other side of the platform when it happened. It was a very near miss, and the broken half disconnected so fast and so violently that even I might have had difficulty getting off it in time, teleportation be damned.”

 

“Language.” Papyrus warned.

 

“Sorry,” Sans said automatically, “So, just like that, all of my work, my whole future...just fell into the lava. Heh. I'll be honest, I tried to save it. It was already too late, but I went running for it. Two monsters just minding their own business had to tackle me down to keep me from throwing myself into the pools, trying to save that damned satchel.”

 

Papyrus wrapped his hands around Sans’ at this and squeezed, “I'm very grateful they did.”

 

Sans shrugged, though he didn't pull his hand away, “Yeah,” he said unconvincingly, “I didn't feel the same way at the time, but they did save my life. I just wanted them to let me go. Even when the project was...” Sans swallowed, “...even when it was definitely gone, I kept thinking I could save it. If I could just get to it...six months worth of work...my whole future...”

 

Papyrus said nothing to any of this, just walking close to the other skeleton, as the two walked mindlessly around Snowdin's backroads, Papyrus nodding warmly to any monster they happened to come across, but otherwise the two having the paths to themselves. Nice and peaceful.

 

After awhile Sans laughed. “Anyway. I was kinda messed up for awhile after that. Once the work was gone, I had a really hard time getting my head straight. I started making a bunch of really irrational decisions. I think I had gone a little insane, honestly. The Think Tank gave me the opportunity to extend my deadline, and I refused. I think my father, desperate to pull me out of my funk, might have gone to other fields for favors, because suddenly I was getting a bunch of job offers for all these random organizations. I even got asked to become part of the agriculture team. I don't know anything about plants, but there was the letter, inviting me to join in an entry-level position on their team. For literally no reason other then my father desperately trying to find me a place in the world.”

 

“It's nice that he cared so much,” Papyrus said carefully. “But I take it that it didn't help?”

 

Sans shrugged, “I just felt bad. Ashamed. I had wanted to earn my place in the Underground. To be respected because I was good at what I did, not because of who my family is. And I -could- have been good. I could have been amazing...had I not been so stupid. I should have never taken my hand off that satchel.”

 

“You couldn't have guessed.” Papyrus said, carefully leading Sans around an ice patch, the smaller monster too lost in his memories to pay attention, “No one expects the earth to shatter.”

 

“I know better then anyone how easily things fall.” Sans muttered darkly, before shaking his head, looking ashamed. “Sorry. Bad taste. I just...anyway. Not long after that I decided to move out. Just...get a job and just try to support myself. I hoped being independent would make me feel better about myself. But I was still kinda aimless about it. I wanted to stay in town to at least be close enough to dad to visit regularly, but beyond that, I didn't really have any specific type of place I wanted to live in. I just asked to see what was cheap. But, with the housing crisis the way it is...”

 

“All the cheap places were already gone?” Papyrus guessed. It was becoming a common story, these days. Everyone knew the population problem was getting worst. There were more monsters every year (the problem was mostly from the numerous monster types that had children in litters, rather then one at a time. It was a natural result of their reproduction, and there was no way to stop it that wasn't inherently horrifying). There's wasn't more Underground to accommodate the growth. The only thing keeping the situation from going critical was, unfortunately, the steadily rising rate of monsters Falling Down.

 

“Yeah. Thankfully, the Realtor was sympathetic. She was the one who asked me if I'd be okay just renting someone's spare room somewhere rather then my own place. When I told her of course, she went hunting for something like that, but even then, the shed ended up being the only real option for me in Snowdin. It wasn't meant to be lived in, but skeletons are hardy; I told myself it didn't matter, and took it. She got it installed with running water and a fridge, but beyond that, I took it as is. It seemed like a good choice at the time.”

 

“Sure,” Papyrus said, not sure exactly how bad a place you had to be in life for a shed with running water to seem like the best you could do, but then, Papyrus had never experienced the kind of failure that Sans had. He supposed when things had gone that wrong, it didn't take much at all to seem like the better option. “But, still. This was all two years ago, right? Hasn't anything happened between then and now?”

 

Sans looked mildly surprised, “Has it really been two years?” he asked, looking up at the cavern ceilings, as if they might have some answer, “I don't know. I just stopped thinking about stuff. Life's kinda easier when your just sorta...getting through it.”

 

“Well, that's depressing.” Papyrus sighed, before brightening, looking down at his partner with a smile, “But things can be different now! The curse, the project... I can make up for all of that!”

 

Sans raised a brow at the tall skeleton. “Huh?”

 

Papyrus considered his wording and shook his head, “I mean, like...I mean what I add to the picture can overcome all the terrible things that plague you. You don't have a good job? That's fine! I have a great job! One full of advancement opportunities! I can take care of us! Don't have a good home? No problem again! My house has plenty of space. We can move you in whenever you're ready! Or whenever you default on your rent, since I'm pretty certain you've mentioned you don't have the funds to make it this month.”

 

“Did...did I say that?” Sans asked, reaching back in his memory for the conversation. Sure, it had been on his mind a lot lately, but he couldn't remember telling Papyrus...but he supposed he must have. Sans face flushed with shame, “I mean...I can still figure something out...”

 

“Sure,” Papyrus said dismissively, before continuing on, “but should you not do that, you always have a place to stay with me! Basically, with me, none of your past matters! Because I'm gonna make up for it! All of it!” Papyrus leaned down onto his knees, bringing Sans into a hug, who accepted it easily, though his mind was racing with conflict. “I'm here now. Everything is going to be okay.”

 

“...Thanks Pap.” Sans said quietly, still not entirely certain how he felt. That had been...a lot at once. And some of that had been unkind. But Sans knew Papyrus hadn't meant to be. It was just his way of being...honest. Sans life was a mess. Papyrus was making it better. All of that was true.

 

Sans hugged Papyrus back, inexplicably grateful. “I'm sorry.” he said, for reasons he wasn't entirely certain about. It just felt like the thing to say. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

 

Papyrus drew back from the hug and smiled, and then suddenly blushed, the desire for something shooting through his eyes for a moment. “Um,” the large skeleton said, in a moment of out of character insecurity, looking down at the snow as he said, “Uh...Sans. This might seem like a strange request. But...and I would understand why you might want to say no, but...do you think you and I could take a trip up the mountain...to the make-out spot?”

 

Sans took a step back from the other monster, frowning, “Paps, you're not talking about Bend's Cliff, are you? That hasn't been called the make-out spot since the -first- time my life was ruined. Why would you ask me to go back there?”

 

Papyrus reached out to Sans, grabbing his hand with both of his own. “Please.” Papyrus said, looking up at the ground and now firmly looking at Sans, a determined look in his eyes, “Please. Trust me?”

 

Sans wanted to say no. Everything in him wanted to say no. He had a hard time even looking at the mountain, and had never been anywhere on it since the incident that had given it its name. How could Papyrus even ask him too...but then, Papyrus hadn't grown up here. He didn't understand how bad it had been. How much it had hurt him...maybe this was even some way of him trying to understand?

 

Papyrus's face was so intense. So sincere. Sans wanted to trust him. Even if it meant visiting memories that hurt. Sans sighed, and nodded. “Okay. Today?”

 

Papyrus smiled and nodded, “Yes, today. Right now, if you think you can make it?”

 

Sans nodded. “Sure.” He said, with a shrug, “Let's do it now.”

 

-

 

As the two climbed the mountain, Sans said, “You let me talk to much, you know that? I feel like we spend a lot of time together, but I don't really know anything about you. Where did you grow up?”

 

Papyrus smiled, walking slowly and carefully, to make sure Sans could keep up. “Not as far off as you'd think, actually. Close enough that I wouldn't be surprised if you and I had even crossed paths a few times in childhood without realizing. Not hard, in the Underground, but still. I'm adopted, before you ask. It's sort of a grim story.”

 

“I'm sorry,” Sans said, before asking, “What happened? You, uh, don't have to tell me.”

 

“Why wouldn't I?” Papyrus said, reaching over to give Sans arms an affectionate squeeze, “You are my partner. I should aspire that you know anything and everything you'd like about me! That's how a good relationship lasts. Either way, it’s only a dark tale. I don't remember any of it, and honestly its hard to even think of it as something that happened to me. Apparently, when I was four, maybe five, no one was sure, I was found sleeping on the road in what everyone would come to assume was my parents dust.”

 

“Oh, wow,” Sans said, his eye darkening in sympathy, “Papyrus, that's terrible, I'm so sorry.”

 

“Again, I don't remember it.” Papyrus shrugged, “It's a lot of mystery and, in my opinion, silliness. My biological parents, whoever they were, had to have been recluses, because no one ever reported a family of missing skeletons, and my adopted parents were never able to find out anything about them. I was old enough to talk, but apparently I refused to do so for several months, and once I started, they found out I didn't remember anything from before they found me. Mom says she thinks its trauma, but Dad suspects I probably just bonked myself in the head real hard, and that's why I was unconscious in the first place.”

 

“That's still terrible.” Sans said, though he appreciated the ease at which Papyrus told his story. He wished he could talk about his own past that comfortably. He imagined he'd be more fun to be around. Sans was once again struck by how cool his partner was. “Do you get on well with your parents? Your adopted ones, I mean.”

 

“Mom and dad? Yes, of course! I love them. As far as I'm concerned, they're more parents then my biological ones ever were to me. They're mine, through and through,” Papyrus said fondly, “I'd love for you to meet them soon, but they're somewhat recluse's themselves, honestly. They live in a cottage that's pretty difficult to get too. It's a trek, even for me. Which was good, because it made me strong throughout my childhood, walking from the house to school every day. A good preparatory workout for life as a Royal Guardsman! Nyehehehe!”

 

“I'd like that.” Sans said, and was surprised that he meant it. He found himself genuinely curious what mesh of personalities would have been able to guide and raise someone as awesome and, frankly, strange as The Great Papyrus. He wondered if they were as goofy as him, but thought better then to ask. Papyrus, for all his advantages, wasn't terribly self aware, and sometimes took offense if you called him out on his weirdness. Sans had learned to keep it to himself.

 

“What about your father?” Papyrus asked, reaching a hand down to help Sans up a ledge, “Doctor Gastor! Royal Scientist! Inventor of the Core, the savior of all Skeletonkind, and! (if it’s not unkind to say), one of the oldest monsters in the Underground. Growing up with him must have been...something!”

 

“Yeah. He's cool.” Sans said, giving a small shrug, “He's actually a really chill dude, if you get to know him. I have a hard time equaling him as the same person who earned all of those titles, ya know? He's just dad. I...I haven't told him about you yet,” Sans admitted, though he knew there was a good chance his father knew about Papyrus anyway. Sans love life was, after all, the topic of much rumor and speculation. But Sans knew his father wouldn't bring it up until Sans himself was ready to talk about it. “I think he'd like you though.”

 

“Well of course,” Papyrus said, “Why wouldn't he? I am incredible. And I am very much looking forward to the day I get to meet him and prove that to him! It should be something!” Papyrus looked back down the steep mountain path, breathing slightly heavily as he smiled, “ We're making great progress! Excellent! You're doing great Sans! I was worried this trip would be more physically difficult for you then this.”

 

Sans shrugged, “I ate and got a good amount of sleep last night. I'll probably be fine the whole way. But by the time we get back down, I'm gonna be wiped.”

 

“It'll be worth it,” Papyrus assured, holding out his hand to help Sans up another rougher part of the path, “Come on. We're almost there.”  
-

 

There was a new safety rail. Other then that, it looked...eerily the same.

 

And yet not at all.

 

Papyrus didn't hesitate to walk up to the end of the path and lean on the safety rail, marveling at the view, but Sans held back, looking around restlessly, not sure where to leave his gaze. It was smaller then he remembered, wasn't it. The length between the main path and the ledge had seemed huge at the time. Endless. Especially when he had tried to reach out...

 

A look of surprise.

 

Quiet.

 

Sans felt himself start to tremble and scolded himself fiercely for it. He shoved his hands into his pockets and held the parka closer around himself, trying to find some comfort in its cocooning effect. He glanced from the floor, to the trees, to the ledge. Lighting didn't really change in the Underground, but hadn't it been darker that day? Hadn't the air seemed red? Hadn't the trees been dark and thick and menacing? Suffocating?

 

That was certainly how Sans remembered it.

 

Quiet.

 

Gone.

 

A look of-

 

_(betrayal.)_

 

Sans blinked. Confused. In that moment outside of his own mind, he finally noticed the tree, and said, “Oh, are you kidding me?”

 

“What?” Papyrus asked, having decided to wait patiently for Sans to have his little 'moment' before fetching him, looking back at the smaller skeleton as Sans looked furious at a tree that had four squared whole in it, the bark cracked and splintered outward. “What's the matter?”

 

“I know for a fact that they put a sign up in their honor,” Sans said, “I never saw it, but they had a ceremony for it and everything. I think some asshole actually tore the sign down? Who would do that!?”

 

Papyrus looked at the tree that used to have a sign on it and sighed, gesturing Sans forward, “Sans, come here. Don't upset yourself. Please.”

 

“It's just so disrespectful!” Sans said, though he did move past the tree and towards Papyrus, leaning into Papyrus's touch as the monster held him close with one arm. Sans resting his head onto the lower part of his chest, shaking with anger, “I can't even imagine what kind of person you'd have to be...”

 

“It's alright,” Papyrus said, “Look at the view with me. It's amazing, isn't it?”

 

Sans wanted to talk about the sign some more, but Papyrus was clearly getting frustrated, and Sans realized he was probably ruining the date. The skeleton took a few calming breaths and tried to get his mind right. The sign thing was awful, sure, but there was no reason to ruin Papyrus's day over it. Sans swallowed his anger, and looked down at the view.

 

It really was beautiful...and high. So damn high. God, Froggit must have had so much time to think...

 

_(I thought it was you, at first. I was so confused. I felt so betrayed. I was halfway down before I realized my mistake.)_

Sans twitched, a sharp pain in his skull for a moment. The pain was gone before he really even had time to register it though.

_Stop. You're gonna fucking hurt him._

_You mustn't tear him_

_(it's okay. He can't hear me. I am merely...reminiscing.)_

_do not risk it_

_not fucking worth it._

_(yes...sorry)_

“Are you okay?” Papyrus asked, watching Sans carefully, mildly irritated to see that Sans was spacing out again. He held Sans closer, jostling him back to reality, “Are you still with me?”

“Sorry,” Sans said, forcing a smile onto his face, looking away from the long, long, -long- fall, over to his partner, whose face was warm, but concerned. “It really is pretty. But...why did you come here so much? It's...not a happy place.”

Papyrus thought of a thousand things to say. He had been over this moment in his head for far, far too long. Playing out every way it could go. But here, in the moment...Papyrus put his hand on the side of Sans face, and with no theatrics, or big speeches, bent his head, and gently pressed his face against Sans.

W A R M T H.

C O M F O R T.

S E C U R I T Y.

L O V E.

And after projecting those emotions, those feelings, just as hard as he could through that limited amount of contact, Papyrus disconnected, pulling back his head, his own face flushed orange with emotion, to look down at his partner.

“uh...” Sans own face was bright blue. His eyes wide, his heart pacing. “Uh...”

“Was that...” Papyrus said, a touch of uncertainty in his words, “okay?”

Sans laughed, and the feeling was both painful and wonderful, because of course that had been okay, and Sans wanted to laugh and laugh and hide and kiss him back, and at the same time, his stupid fucking heart kept wanting to break, because goodness wasn't this familiar. But Sans swallowed the grief and focused on the giggling, dizzy happiness, and stammered out, “Yeah. Yeah that was...sorry. I'm a mess. I haven't...shit.”

“Language,” Papyrus reminded, amused.

“Sorry,” Sans replied automatically, laughing again, “I just...sorry, I'm such a spaz.”

“It's okay,” Papyrus reassured, putting his hand behind Sans head, gently pulling him in, “I'm going to do it again, okay?”

“Yea-” Sans started to say, but Papyrus was already leaning in.

This time, Sans, timidly, started to project back.

J O Y.

j o y

L A U G H T E R.

a m a z e m e n t

D E V O T I O N.

a f f e c t i o n

L O V E.

l o-

_Fucking **-demon-!**_

Papyrus reeled backwards, and Sans too gasped, the sudden spark of hatred, real, true rage, racing through his bones like -acid-. Papyrus just looked shocked, but Sans could barely see him, his brain racing with thoughts that were shoving him aside, scratching at the core of his being.

_Fucking MISERABLE PIECE OF SHIT YOU’RE FUCKING GOING TO DO THIS HERE?!_

_Stop!_

_(Enough!)_

_FROGGIT **DIED HERE** YOU DISRESPECTFUL FUCK! JUST KILL HIM SANS!_

Something painful ripped through Sans soul. It felt like a white hot brand through his skull. Sans couldn't think. He looked from Papyrus, to the ledge, to Papyrus again. He couldn't think.

_Please stop! You will tear him!_

_(do not do this. It doesn't matter. It is not worth this.)_

“S...Sans?” Papyrus said, genuinely shaken as he waved a hand across his partners face, who was glaring at nothing, his whole body rigid and tense, “Oh my god, are you having a stroke?!”

_We should kill him._

_We can cannot tear Sans_

_(It isn't fair.)_

_Pull back_

_(be calm)_

_It's not worth hurting Sans_

_...right...right...I'm sorry._

_(patience)_

_Calm_

_Sorry..._

 

The rage went away and Sans took a deep breath, not realizing he had been holding his breath for nearly a minute. His vision cleared, and he saw Papyrus clutching his arms, looking frightened. “Sans?” He said, a clear panic in his voice, “Sans, are you okay?”

 

“Sorry,” Sans said, his chest tightening with guilt and shame. How could...how could the mere idea...the slightest impulse...how could he have thought, even for a moment, about pushing Papyrus off the ledge!? Where had that even come from!? Sans felt his eyes well up with tears, his whole body shaking. “I'm sorry. I don't know what that was. I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry.”

 

“Shh,” Papyrus said, pulling Sans towards himself and clutching him tight, his own frame slightly shaking as well. He had felt the hatred in the kiss, for just a fraction of a second. For a moment, he had thought...He had thought maybe Sans knew...Papyrus shook the thought away. “It's okay. What was that!?”

 

“I don't know,” Sans said honestly, his mind going back through the memory trying to find something, anything, that would have sparked that sort of mindless rage in him. Desperate to make sense of it, Sans finally said, “Maybe...I think I was mad at myself? For a moment? I haven't done anything like this sense high school. I can't even remember the last time I even touched somebody besides my dad. I think...I was a little overwhelmed, and got mad that I was overwhelmed? Does that make sense? I'm sorry I scared you.”

 

“Scared, me?” Papyrus laughed nervously, “I am the Great Papyrus, Royal Guardsman! It, uh, takes more then that to frighten me! I was merely...worried for you.” Papyrus let Sans go, sighing as he leaned against the railing, looking down at the view. “Darn it. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. I know this place has nothing but bad memories for you, but...I just wanted to replace that with...with a good one.”

 

Sans smiled, his nerves evening out the farther from that moment he got. Sans went up behind Papyrus and hugged him, pressing his face into Papyrus's back. “You did.” Sans assured, as Papyrus turned around to look down at Sans, a bemused look on his face, “No, really. That was...really nice. I liked it. I like you a lot...”

 

“I love you.” Papyrus said.

 

Sans laughed, and then hid his face into Papyrus's clothes. “You keep saying that.” Sans murmured.

 

“From the very first minute I saw you.” Papyrus said, sitting down with his back leaning against the railing, pulling Sans into his lap, “The very first second. Helplessly, hopelessly in love.”

 

Sans didn't know what to say to this, the same way he didn't know what to say to it all the other times Papyrus had said it. He wanted to say it back, honestly. Wanted to say it back because it would make Papyrus's face light up, like Sans was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Wanted to say it in defiance the looks that they got on the street, watching, waiting. Wanted to say it because...it might actually...be true...

 

The fear seized the words in his throat though. No matter how much time went by...the fear never really left.

 

Papyrus, seeing the conflict running through his partner, just smiled, lifting up Sans chin, and leaning his head down again. Contact.

 

B E A U T I F U L.

 

k i n d

 

B R E A T H T A K I N G.

 

g e n e r o u s

 

L U S T.

 

...l u s t...

 

Sans flushed, pulling back, the arousal sudden and unexpected. H'oh boy...were they...here? Of all places? He glanced up at Papyrus's face and knew that the other skeleton definitely wanted too. The desire on him was plain, almost lewd in its openess. Papyrus wanted too badly. But Sans knew it was ultimately up to him, as Papyrus loosened his grip, holding his body back, waiting for Sans to initiate contact again.

 

“I...” Sans wanted to hold the secret to himself. Was ashamed of this. But finally said, “I haven't done this before...I mean, I mean,” he flushed, trying to damage control as Papyrus smiled at him, “I've done stuff! When I was a teenager. I'm not totally ignorant. But...it never got past like...I might not be any good, is what I'm trying to say...I just don't want you to be dissa-”

 

Papyrus leaned in again.

 

The emotions of lust were the only thing being passed and forth now. T O U C H, Papyrus emitted, before reaching his hands underneath Sans jacket, exploring the curve of Sans spine, who shivered against the foreign feeling. D E S I R E.

 

d e s i r e, Sans passed back, leaning his body further into Papyrus's, his hands at his neck and collarbone, his knees in the dirt as Papyrus's long legs circled him, e x c i t e m e n t.

 

n e r v o u s

 

u n c e r t a i n

 

Papyrus grinned at this, putting out soothing emotions again while at the same time he pushed forward, gently guiding Sans backwards, onto the ground onto his back. Papyrus looming above him. S E C U R I T Y. Papyrus assured. S A F E T Y.

 

...t r u s t...

 

Papyrus smiled like the sun, and started to take off Sans parka. The truth was he was nervous as well. How long had he been dreaming of this? How many nights alone in his bed had this very setting, this very scenario, played out in his mind? Sans below him, looking up with lust and need on his face, while Papyrus got to take his time with him? To gently pull him apart, explore every crevasse of him? Sans...his? His own. In the very spot, even, the first time someone else had tried to conquer him?

 

Finally.

 

Papyrus wanted to pull noises from Sans. Wanted all of Sans. As Sans helped get his parka and shirt off, Papyrus looked down at Sans, trembling slightly in the snow, the parka and shirt now being used as makeshift blankets between his bones and the snows bite, and Papyrus almost couldn't believe it. Expected to wake up, his sheets a mess and his mind on fire. Expected all of this to just...disappear.

 

Sans allowed the gaze to go on for a moment before, the cold becoming a real issue, stuttered out, “Paps? You, heh, you wanna-”

 

“Shhh,” Papyrus said, putting a few fingers on Sans mouth, using the opportunity to turn Sans head aside for a bit and lean down and put his teeth against Sans neck. Conjuring a tongue, his magic reserves now circling his whole body as it gave him the necessary parts to fulfill the physical side of this exchange (though his soul ACHED to be a part of this as well, melting against his own ribcage, desperate for contact), he bit at Sans neck, just for a moment, just long enough for there to be some pain, Sans body jerking against the contact, before Papyrus soothed it by emitting healing magic through his mouth, licking at the wound to bring warmth and sparks of energy to the spot.

 

Sans gasped and fought against this instinctively for the bite, but relaxed and moaned against the attention, his body squirming beneath Papyrus's. “W-well,” Sans gasped, his voice choking on his own spit as various parts of his body began to melt and change in his lust. “I guess at least one of us know what we're doinNNG!”

 

“Shhh,” Papyrus whispered again, as Sans gasped at the contact, Papyrus running his hands up Sans spine and inside his ribcage, messaging Sans soul a bit. “Let me do this. I've got you.”

 

C O N F I D E N C E.

 

C O N T R O L.

 

S A F E T Y.

 

t r u s t

 

n e e d

 

Papyrus smiled at this, pulling Sans soul out.

 

It was beautiful. White and sparkling, entirely untouched by the corrupting influence of EXP or LV (this by itself was actually surprising. Most monsters by this age at least had one or two levels of LV. Fights happened, after all, and no one needed to die for these fights to taint the soul. But it looked as if Sans had never been purposefully aggressive against anyone, ever. Pure. Papyrus loved him even more). It was smaller then Papyrus's own, but this was understandable. Sans was less of a body to support, after all. Watching Sans face carefully, entranced by the way Sans looked up at Papyrus, the first person who, in his whole life, had ever held his soul, Papyrus gave Sans a final soothing smile before sticking out his tongue, licking the soul down the middle.

 

o h g o d

 

It was like electricity shooting up throughout Sans whole body. It was almost too much. His frame wanted to curl up, protect itself from the sudden, new feelings, his spine jerking into a curve as Sans lifted his head with a loud keen, gasping noise. Patiently, but firmly, Papyrus put his hands on Sans chest and pushed him back down, Sans clutching at Papyrus's arms, breathing heavily as Papyrus continued his attention at Sans soul.

 

Another long lick, with this time Papyrus's tongue pushing into the soft ectoplasm itself, moving around within Sans being. Sans could feel Papyrus's consciousness inside of him now, just a bit at least, the emotions of lust and desire now more then just empathetic, but consuming. Sans tried to swallow and found that he couldn't, low, edging noises constantly pushing past as his body convulsed. “oh god Papyrus...please...” Sans reached out to Papyrus's own clothes, unable to reach his partners shirt due to the arm holding him down. “Please. I want you.”

 

Papyrus looked at him for a long time again, his eyes glazed and far away. Sans was lost in the look. It was both highly arousing and oddly frightening. Papyrus looked a little like he wanted to devour him.

 

“I don't...” Papyrus himself seemed to be having a hard time talking as well, his own breath coming out in little heavy bursts, “I don't think we should soul merge this time. Okay?”

 

Sans was surprised by this (soul merges were actually only really necessary for monster intercourse if they were trying for children, but they were considered such an intimate part of the process that, at least from what Sans had read, most monsters couldn't help performing a soul merge at the same time as a physical one), thinking that was the reason Papyrus had brought his soul out in the first place, but...if he wasn't ready to share his soul with Sans, then Sans wasn't going to push it. As badly as his soul was reaching out for Papyrus, Sans didn't reject it as Papyrus gently pushed it back into Sans chest. “Next time,” Papyrus whispered, almost to himself, as the soul went back into its protective cage, “next time.”

 

“Okay,” Sans said, breathless, before asking with what he hoped wasn't too much desperation, “But we're going to still-”

 

“Oh, hell yes,” Papyrus practically growled, finally taking off his own shirt.

 

Sans laughed. “language,” he teased, but Papyrus could barely hear him. While Sans clothes had been taken off with care, Papyrus couldn't seem to get out of his shirt and scarf fast enough, tossing the two items aside before reaching down to take off his belt. Sans watched this with his heart pounding, reaching down to undo his own pants, still marveling that this was actually happening. For half a second, he believed he thought that maybe this particular place, for a whole bunch of reasons, wasn't the place to be doing this...but the thought disappeared into the void of his own lust, immediately forgotten.

 

Sans had instinctively formed a dick down at his pelvis, as he had been doing his whole life, but upon seeing Papyrus's, immediately shifted the form to a more complimenting vagina. Physical gender was a more flexible thing for magic based monsters then it was for their mammal-based counterparts, and it wasn't long before he had all the pieces he needed. Maybe next time he'd keep his gender, but for now he just wanted to be as accommodating as possible.

 

Papyrus looked down at him like he was a masterpiece, and Sans immediately felt far too self-aware, wondering what on earth Papyrus could possibly be seeing to get him to react like that. Sans view was, of course, incredible. Papyrus was strong, the way his magic formed around him suggesting incredible self control and magical reserves, and it was a little amazing, the way Papyrus seemed to take up the whole ceiling, from Sans perspective. Handsome and powerful and just...incredibly in love.

 

How could Sans possibly have gotten so lucky?

 

“No words, okay?” Papyrus said, his voice wet with lust, “I just want to hear you breath.”

 

“O...okay.” Sans murmured back, as Papyrus pulled at his pelvis, adjusting him to be half laying on his knees, so that Papyrus could more easily line up with him. It occurred to him this might hurt. He half wanted to ask Papyrus to reduce the size of his member, which seemed unnecessarily long, at the moment. But Papyrus had asked for silence and Sans wasn't going to ruin this by being an idiot. He bit his tongue and trusted as Papyrus leaned down on top of him, one hand grabbing Sans spine and the other steadying himself on Sans shoulder.

 

As Papyrus pushed in, it did hurt. But Sans widened his legs and held his tongue and after a moment it eased up, Papyrus breathing in Sans (metaphorical) ears as he grunted slightly, pushing in testingly and pulling out gently. Readjusting his knees to get a better angle, Papyrus looked down at Sans with an almost frightening intensity, as if trying to memorize every moment, as he slid in and out, in and out again.

 

Sans had a hard time looking at the gaze. He felt too closely examined, and turned his head away, closing his eyes, trying to focus on the movement. His breath tightened and his gasp hitched as Papyrus, clutching Sans shoulder, quickened his pace, grunting on top of Sans.

 

After a minute, Sans wondered...was it supposed to feel like this?

 

There was sparks of pleasure, sure, but it was still mostly uncomfortable, and either way, both of the pleasure and the pain were...muted. Though it was nice to feel a body held against him, and it was exciting to do this, sure, especially with Papyrus, Sans still felt like...maybe he was doing this wrong. His own masturbation sessions at home, though brief, had sparked more feeling down there then was currently going on, and Sans was suddenly worried that maybe he had formed it wrong? Or maybe he was holding his legs wrong? What was wrong!?

 

Sans wanted to try to say something to Papyrus, but immediately felt like an idiot. What was he going to say? 'Hey, paps, I think we're doing sex wrong?' You can't do sex wrong. Right? It was just...insert slot into port and go, right? Fuck, what if he insulted Papyrus by suggesting something was wrong? What if Papyrus stopped liking him because Sans couldn't do literally the one fucking thing in this whole relationship that Papyrus had asked of him?

 

Papyrus kept pushing into him. Another minute went by. It didn't feel any better.

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

He just wasn't going to say anything. Maybe this is what the first time was like for everyone. He wasn't going to be an asshole by saying anything. Sans allowed Papyrus to push and pull his way through him, and kept his eyes closed, and tried to make the appropriate noises, because fuck, he didn't want Papyrus to know that so far this kind of...sucked.

 

As Papyrus began to tremble, low moans invading Sans thought process, Sans tries to rationalize to himself. Maybe this was just how sex, like, all of sex, was. Maybe the way people talked and described it was just...embellishment? And this was normal? Maybe Sans had just allowed his expectations to get too high. Was this going to be over soon? No, no, Sans liked this. He liked this. And if he didn't like this, then he was just being a brat. Papyrus was the best thing that had ever happened to him. If Sans didn't like the feeling of the other monster inside of him, well, Sans was just going to fucking keep that to himself. He wasn't going to say anything, even afterwords. Papyrus was great. Sans was an idiot.

 

“F-fuck,” Papyrus murmured, his face pinched, his bones bright orange as he pushed harder, “I l-love you so much...so fucking much...”

 

See, Sans thought to himself, almost furiously. He loves you! And you just want to lie there and be ungrateful! Maybe it does feel good and you're just too fucking stupid to realize it! Maybe you just don't know a good thing when you have it! Shut up and just enjoy this!

 

But Sans couldn't. He wanted too and couldn't. Every now and again a spark of feeling shot through him, when Papyrus shifted his weight or arched higher, that made Sans think this was about to be better, but the feeling always left, and it was just the strange stretching of Papyrus inside him again. As Papyrus murmured sweet nothings at him, Sans, now several minutes in and desperate to end this, tensed his body and made a high sound that he had seen in porn, and Papyrus, heavily aroused by what he believed was Sans climax, pounded inside of him until he, too, tensed and groaned, his whole body trembling around his relief as Sans kept his knees open with for him, looking up at Papyrus's relieved, satisfied face in what was almost bafflement.

 

He wouldn't say anything. If it was bad, it was probably Sans own fault. He wouldn't say anything.

 

Papyrus just barely caught himself from collapsing on top of him, still aware enough to know that diggings Sans even further into the snow would probably be uncomfortable for him. So instead he just did his best to hold himself up as he caught his breath.

 

Amazing. It had been amazing.

 

It had actually happened.

 

His.

 

Sans was -his- now. Really, finally his. He had done it.

 

Papyrus leaned his head down at Sans collarbone and laughed. Cackled. As Sans put his arms around Papyrus's shoulder and stared up at the cavern ceiling, tired and conflicted.

 

Worth it, Papyrus thought to himself, his soul light with joy.

 

It had all been worth it.

 

-

 

Though Papyrus had tried to talk Sans into spending the night at his house that night, Sans had insisted that he needed to go back to his own bed. “I'm exhausted,” Sans had told him with a wary smile, as Papyrus walked him to the shed, “And somehow, I think if I went with you, we wouldn't get any sleep.”

 

“You're not wrong,” Papyrus said happily, pulling Sans in for another kiss as they got the door, projecting J O Y through the contact. j o y, Sans sent back, though he was clearly tired. The trek combined with the physical activity had obviously been a little too much for him. Papyrus gave him one more kiss before whispering, “I love you.”

 

“I...” Sans hesitated, looking at the ground for a moment before saying, almost in defiance of himself, “...I love ya too.”

 

Papyrus beamed, held Sans close, and then headed home.

 

-

 

As Papyrus headed up to his office space, a little voice said tauntingly, “Well, someone smells like sex.”

 

“Honestly, Flowey, must you be like that?” Papyrus tsked, though his pleased excitement only got brighter as he said, “It was amazing. Did you see it?”

 

“Papyrus!” Flowey cried, shocked, “I'm not a perv! I didn't spy on you and your-”

 

“Did you?” Papyrus asked, as he sat down at his desk and flicked the screen on, immediately jumping through the four cameras before settling on the angle he liked best.

 

Flowey slithered up the desk beside him and did the flower equivalent of a shrug, “Okay, maybe a little. And oh boy, you sure seemed like you were having fun! Guess all the the practice paid off, at least in that sense.”

 

“And...?” Papyrus asked, turning to raise a brow at the little plant.

 

Flowey smiled sweetly at him, “What do you mean, and? And what? You looked like you had a good time.”

 

Papyrus frowned at him, turning away form the screen, even as Sans began to wash himself down with a wet rag (watching Sans clean himself was one of Papyrus's favorite things to watch on the cameras. Sometimes he even set up the VCR to record it). “Okay,” Papyrus said, “I'm biting. What are you not saying?”

 

Flowey sighed. “Look, I'm not going to say anything if you're going to get pouty about it...”

 

“Whose pouting? I'm not pouting. The Great Papyrus never pouts! Just tell me.” Papyrus said, a hint of edge to the request this time.

 

“I'm just saying...” Flowey sighed, “I guess, during those times when we were practicing sex, I suppose at some point I should have taught you how a freaking vagina works. Okay? You could have done better, is all. I don't know why, but for some reason I thought the two of you would just be working with dicks. It never occurred to me Sans could just girl himself up! Who does that!?”

 

“Skeletons do that. All the time.” Papyrus said, crossing his arms with a huff before realizing, “Are you saying...Sans didn't enjoy himself?”

 

Flowey entwined himself up Papyrus's arms, pushing his vines out so he was a little more eye level with Papyrus as the two watched the cameras, Sans cleaning his pelvis area with tired, slow movements. Papyrus zoomed in on camera #4. “Look, either the guy just doesn't react to climax's, which, pff, everyone does, or he didn't have one. Couldn't you tell the difference between how he was acting when you were all 'lets lick his soul' and when you were just punching his pelvis with yours?”

 

“He... I thought...ugh.” Papyrus put his head in his hands, thoroughly embarrassed. “Send me back. Reverse time. Tell me what I did wrong and I'll do it right this time.”

 

“No, no, this is not worth killing me over.” Flowey said, rolling his eyes, “Look, this isn't a bad thing! It's a learning experience! This is the starting point between getting to know Sans' body, and being able to play it like a violin.”

 

“I thought I had done well...”

 

“And you will!” Flowey said soothingly, “You just have to learn. You think I was good at this stuff when I first tried it? Buddy, I was a disaster. A monster literally killed me once, I was that bad a lay. It was an accident, but still. That. Bad.”

 

Papyrus laughed a little, taking his hands out of his face and looking over at Flowey, “Really? Which one?”

 

Flowey's face pinched in concentration, a puzzled frown on his face. “I honestly can't remember? It was definitely one of the bigger mammals. I don't know, it was like a hundred sessions ago. Sex gets boring after awhile, especially for plants. All I ever really get out of it is seeing the way people react to it. I think I went through the entire underground once, did some of the better ones a few times, and now, besides teaching you, I've never really wanted to explore it since.”

 

“I can't even imagine getting bored of it,” Papyrus admitted, watching Sans hungrily, who was done cleaning himself off and was now crawling into bed, “He's literally all I think about. All of the time.”

 

“Really?” Flowey said, sarcasm dripping as he watched the monitor of cameras that had been set up during the last remodeling session, “I'd have never guessed.”

 

“Oh, quiet.” Papyrus said, a touch of whine in his voice, “I can't believe he didn't like it! What did I do wrong?”

 

“Look, let me just show you real quick, alright? It'll be easier then trying to get it through that thick skull of yours.” Flowey said, slithering down Papyrus's body, “Undo your pants and conjure, and wow I can't believe you never told me you can do this, conjure a cunt.”

 

“Flowey!” Papyrus said, utterly shocked, “Don't call it that!”

 

“Papyrus, it's literally what it is.” Flowey said, as Papyrus leaned back in his seat, pulling down his pants and working himself up enough to start forming the request, “Besides, give me a break, I'm soulless. Who cares if I curse?”

 

“I still don't know if I believe that.” Papyrus murmured, staring at Sans sleeping form on the screen, allowing his imagination do the rest. “It doesn't seem possible...you don't act emotionless.”

 

“You don't have to believe it, but by golly, it just keeps on being true.” Flowey said cheerfully, inspecting the newly formed orange bud for a moment before saying, “Okay, pay attention. This actually isn't all that hard, and it makes a world of difference. You feel this thing?” Flowey asked, before putting out his tongue and licked the small bulb that sat just above the hole of Papyrus's newly formed vagina. Papyrus shivered a bit, “That's a clit. It's where, like, ninety percent of females enjoyment of sex comes from. You don't coax that thing out of its little shell before you shove yourself in there, she, or I guess in this case he, isn't going to feel much of anything. Let me show you the difference.”

 

Flowey pulled up one of his thicker vines, and not bothering to warn Papyrus, shoved it into the hole, ignoring Papyrus's instinctive gasp as he made a show of pulling it in and out for a bit.

 

“Flowey, what are you doing?” Papyrus grumbled, squirming in his chair, “You're doing it wrong. That hurts.”

 

“That's my point, numb-nuts.” Flowey said, leaving the vine where it was, but stopping its movement, “That's what you were doing to Sans. No wonder the guy just laid there like a log. Dude probably had no idea what to do with himself, with you treating him like that. You might as well have slapped his face and called him garbage. Okay, so compare that, to when I do this.”

 

All business, Flowey moved in and took the clit between his lips, running his tongue over it and sucking. The reaction from Papyrus was immediate. There was a shocked gasp, and then the large monster struggled to not squirm, sweat starting to form on his brow as he covered his face with one hand, peeking through his fingers to look down at Flowey in amazement. “O-oh...o-oh wow...nnn...nnNNNHGG!??”

 

Flowey drew back, spitting out some of the taste before raising a brow at Papyrus, smirking. “Yeah, doesn't take much, does it? Okay, now see how this feels.”

 

Flowey once again moved the vines in and out of Papyrus, and the difference...wow! Wow! The difference. Papyrus's whole body trembled and squeezed against the vines, every small nudge and push against the clit shooting up a fresh shower of nerves and pleasure Papyrus's hole seemed to open up wider and wider, trying to take more and more of Flowey in. As Papyrus felt Flowey slow down, clearly certain he had proven his point, Papyrus cried out, “N-no! N-not yet!”

 

“Oh?” Flowey said, smiling sweetly at Papyrus, “Okay then.”

 

More vines shot out, grabbing Papyrus's arms and neck, pinning him to the swivel chair as two more vines grabbed at Papyrus's knees, pushing them together rather then apart, and lifting Papyrus's legs into the air. Unable to move in his position, Papyrus cried out as another vine forced its way into the space between his legs, each of the two vines moving in and out counter to each other, so that Papyrus's insides were always full of Flowey. A third vine went up to Papyrus's clit, and just rubbed itself up and down against it, until it was raw and on fire.

 

“OH MY GOD, FUCK!” Papyrus screamed, heaving and fighting against the restrains as his body contorted and writhed with pleasure. “FUCK! FLOWEY, OH FUCK! NNGGHHHAHHHH!!”

 

“More?” Flowey asked accommodatingly, as another vine inserted its way into Papyrus, digging in as deep as it could while the other two continued their relentless pumping, “My goodness you're a thirsty boy. Okay~”

 

“NO, OH NO, OoooooAAH!” Papyrus's cries were cut short as a vine went around his face, covering his mouth, Papyrus biting into it out of desperation. Fuck, he couldn't think, he couldn't think, he couldn't !!!!!!!!!

 

!?!

 

By the time it was done, Papyrus had no idea how long he was in that chair. He just knew that after awhile of nothing but lights and colors, each burst of pleasure more intense, more agonizing, as it went on, that Papyrus had felt something click off in his mind, for awhile. He had just become an extension of Flowey's vines, more then anything else. And then, out of nowhere, it had stopped, the vines pulling away, and Papyrus sliding off the chair, curled up and breathing heavily on the ground.

 

It took another several minutes before he was, well, Papyrus again, and by the time he could focus, he just saw Flowey smirking down at him.

 

“Yeah.” Flowey said, “Somehow I don't think Sans going to be able to fool you with a fake climax again. I'm pretty sure you know what a real one looks like now. So what do we say to our best friend in the world who does all these lovely things for you?”

 

“Th...” Papyrus tried to breath, “Thank you.”

 

“Damn right.” Flowey muttered, vanishing into the floorboard.

 

-

 

Sans woke up to the knock on the door. He knew it was Papyrus, and felt conflicted about this. He wanted to see him, of course, but he still felt bad about yesterday. The longer the night had gone on, the more Sans was certain that whatever discomfort had come from their time together, it had been his own fault.

 

All Sans could do was hope that Papyrus hadn't noticed.

 

He opened the door, and found himself immediately up in the air, Papyrus lifting him up and spinning him. “Good morning, Sans!” Papyrus greeted, pulling him into a kiss.

 

L O V E.

 

L O V E.

 

L O V E.

 

l o v e

 

“NYEHEHEHEHE!” Papyrus laughed, giving Sans another hug before putting him down, smiling down at him sheepishly. “Sorry, I'm just in such a great mood this morning. Yesterday was so much fun, wasn't it?”

 

Sans chuckled, his earlier fears already easing in the face of Papyrus's happy energy. Why had he even been so worried? Stupid. “Yeah,” he said, “You were right. It was nice...making a happy memory there. Thanks Paps. Are you already heading to work?”

 

“Of course! I always strive to be the first to arrive to shift turnover! It’s the mark of a leader to arrive first and leave last, you know!”

 

“No kiddin.” Sans said, opening up his phone to check the time before yawning, “Well, I wouldn't want anyone to mistake me for a leader. Best go sleep for another hour. Just to be sure.”

 

“Sans! Oh my god!” Papyrus shouted, once again dealing with one of the more frustrating personality traits of his partner. “You can't be late to your job just to prove you're unfit to lead! That's so irresponsible!”

 

“And yet,” Sans laughed, as Papyrus stamped his foot in frustration, giving his partner a wink. “Relax, Paps. I'm going. I just need to, ya know...put on clothes.”

 

“And eat a real meal!” Papyrus insisted at Sans retreating form, “None of that ramen garbage! Eat eggs!”

 

“'Kay,” Sans said, “See ya after work.”

 

Papyrus closed the door for him, and Sans dutifully headed to the fridge. He -had- been going to make ramen, actually. He had even taken out the packaging already. Funny how Paps could have guessed that. He was so cool.

 

He supposed eggs sounded good too.

 

-

 

Time went by. For all of times faults (and there are many), at least you could say it was persistent.

 

-

 

Eventually, they tried again.

 

This time it was at Papyrus's house, and it was a tad more spontaneous then the first long sought after prize. They had been watching a movie and had simply gotten distracted by each other. They didn't talk about it: a hand went here, a welcoming smile. That was really all it took.

 

This time was gentle. More of a shared process. Papyrus held Sans and asked him questions, ones that Sans was a little embarrassed to answer, but in a way the embarrassment was part of the fun of it. Papyrus would put a finger there and ask, 'How does that feel?' and Sans would flush and try to focus and try to find words and Papyrus would laugh at this and Sans would laugh as well, and it was love. Genuine. The two enjoying each others time and attention. No double meanings. No agendas. No fear or guilt or shame.

 

Papyrus brought Sans to climax before he himself had even gotten started taking off his own clothes, and was almost stunned to realize that in this moment, he didn't even really care about his own pleasure in the act. He teased gently the look on Sans face as the smaller skeletons eyes went far away and his body trembled, and Sans cursed him and tried to hide his head into the cushions of the couch, and Papyrus pulled him away and begged him not to, because, “Seeing you so happy is all I want to do right now.”

 

And after awhile Sans eyes grew heavy and Papyrus held him close as his partner fell asleep, warm and happy and content. The light of the television shifted and buzzed and dimmed and brightened, and Papyrus liked this because it seemed every few moments he could see Sans face in a new light, a new color, shifting and beautiful.

 

It was in this moment, and only this moment, in the whole of Papyrus's life, that he wondered...if maybe it had been unnecessary. All of it. Maybe it would have been okay to just let Sans live his life. To allow all the little temptations that Papyrus had lived in fear of for so long try to take Sans away.

 

Because how could they have possibly succeeded? How could they have fought and conquered against a love that was so obvious? A destiny so true? It was madness, to think that in this moment, Sans could have ended up anywhere but here. In his arms. Happy and content.

 

So maybe...Papyrus should have just let things be?

 

The feeling would pass. Of course it would. And to those who wonder, it didn't even bring him any real pain when the feeling was there. Papyrus was contemplative, not remorseful. Which is a shame for him. Had the skeleton had a touch of remorse, even a smidgen of real regret, perhaps he would have made different choices in the upcoming month. Maybe, despite a lifetime of sickness and torture and madness, the two of the skeletons really could have ended happily ever after.

Perhaps the story should just end here. In this moment. Happy in ignorance, for one. Happy in injustice, for the other. But happy.

 

…

 

Ah. Look.

 

Time comes to ruin our fun.

 

What a persistent fucking bitch.

 

-

 

They were at the market in The City, because Papyrus had needed to see Undyne about something, and she currently had temporary orders to New Home in order to attend a number of important meetings for Underground officials when it came to discussing Underground policies for the next year. “It's so boring!!” The fish-monster had shouted, taking a spear and hurling it into the nearby gym wall, none of the other gym members taking note as this had become common practice in the time she was here, “We spend freaking ages talking about changes that can't be implemented for another freaking five years!! And even if we agree on it this year, next year I'll be right back here to talk about those exact same policies that won't be able to be implemented for another four years to see if it’s something we even still want to do!! NGHAAAA!!!”

 

She then picked up Papyrus and threw -him- at the wall, who managed to kick off it and land on the spear still sticking out, ending in a dashing pose and a gust of wind. Pleased by this, Undyne gave Papyrus a thumbs up, feeling immediately better, before turning her attention to Sans, who had been listening quietly. He gave her a little wave.

 

“So THIS is the sun, the stars, and the moon, huh?” Undyne asked, giving Sans a wicked grin before turning to smirk at Papyrus, who jumped down from the spear, “While you were all waxing poetic, you should have freaking mentioned he's an ootie-cutie-patootie!!”

 

“Wha?” Sans asked, looking back and forth between Undyne and Papyrus, a little amazed at what he saw. He had always thought Papyrus had a natural ease and affection around people, that even if the situation was awkward, the taller skeleton was always so internally happy around people that he couldn't notice it. But this...Papyrus's total ease and relaxed friendly back and forth between himself and this woman was entirely different then with anyone else Sans had ever seen him talk too. The dip in his shoulders, the easy smile, eyes that seemed almost a tad smug under her gaze. Sans was amazed to discover that before this moment, he may not have ever seen Papyrus actually at ease around another person before.

Fascinating.

 

“Oh stop it. I called him that -one- time and you've never let it go.” Papyrus said, “And we're not staying, by the way. I just wanted Sans to get a chance to meet you. We're actually heading to the market after this. Do you want me to pick up anything to bring to training tomorrow?”

 

“When did you call me the 'sun, moon, and stars'?” Sans asked, raising an eyebrow at his partner, “I thought you didn't believe in the sun?”

 

“Oh hush, I believe in it, it just sounds ridiculous,” Papyrus said dismissively, “And ages ago. It doesn't matter. Do you want anything, Undyne?”

 

She had wanted armor polish, and had given Papyrus the money needed for it. So now, as Papyrus went for the armor stall, Sans walked by him before getting distracted by a stall on the way. “Oh, look.” Sans had said, grinning widely, “socks.”

 

“Really?” Papyrus asked, stopping and looking back at his partner with a frown, “We're heading towards a stall that makes beautiful armor, amazing swords, and intricate shields, and you...want to go look at socks. Really?”

 

“They have new patterns,” Sans pointed out, while the stall keeper gave him a friendly smile, “Heh. This one has stars! Neat.”

 

“Ugh, fine. Honestly, how you ever got by before I found you...anyway, you look at the socks, I'll be right back with the armor polish.” Papyrus said, heading to the armor stall, which was just down to the corner anyway, “Don't wander away, I don't want to have to go looking for you!”

 

“'kay.” Sans said, shifting through the pile of matched and mismatched socks, admiring one with some strange looking fish on it. Maybe he's get these for Undyne. He thought he had made a decent first impression, but he really wanted Papyrus's friend to like him, so ma-

In the distance, there was a clatter. 

“Oh my god!” someone screamed, “are you okay!?”

 

Sans looked down the path and saw a couple monsters crowding over at the stall at the end. They were looking down at a monster that-FUCK.

 

PAPYRUS!

 

Sans did a burst of teleportation, before shoving his way through the crowding monsters. On the floor, Papyrus was laid out, rubbing at his head and wincing, trying to get up but was struggling against a huge, long sword that had pierced the front part of his armor and got clean through to the other side, lodging itself into the ground.

 

“Paps?” Sans asked, his voice tight, his hands shaking. His partner wasn't dust. He wasn't dust. Was he about to become dust? Was he losing HP? Sans turned on his eye and pulled Papyrus into battle, the world going black and white as he Checked his partners stats.

 

**Papyrus ATK 45 DEF 20  
Shaken, but otherwise fine, Sans, stop, I'm fine. **

 

Papyrus Spared on his turn and Sans took it, taking a shaking breath as the world returned to color before saying, “Paps, what happened?”

 

“Heck if I know!” Papyrus shouted, looking over at one of the stronger looking monsters, “Could you give me a hand? The swords embedded at a weird angle.”

 

“Best let me do it,” said a monster coming from the other side of the counter, a bull-based monster. “Hold still, right? He told Papyrus, before grasping the hilt of the sword and carefully pulling it out, “I'll apologize for this, though I gotta say, I ain't never seen that happen before. Sword was hanging up on display and a pocket of wind pushed it forward. Happens all the time, no big deal, but the damn ring its hooked too just snapped, like it was a freaking paperclip. Damn thing fell into the fellow before anyone had time to blink, clean through. Like butter. What a freak accident.”

 

“Indeed!” Papyrus said, getting up once he was free of the sword and checking himself over before saying, “Wow! That was a really clean cut! I'm lucky it missed my ribs. How much for the sword? I don't usually use them, but if it cuts that deeply by accident!”

 

The bull laughed, “Considering it damn near almost killed ya? I'll give ya a thirty percent discount and fix the holes in your armor on the house, which bring ya to 140 gold.”

 

“Sold!” Papyrus said, as the worried onlookers started to relax, all of them chuckling to themselves at Papyrus's beaming smile as the skeleton added on, “I also need to get armor polish, and...Sans?”

 

Sans was walking away, his eyes dark, his hands still shaking. Nope. Nope. Nope.

 

“Give me one minute,” Papyrus told the bull, who nodded as he went towards inspecting his other rings for signs of tearing. Papyrus jogged up to Sans, who was still going internally, nope. Nope. Nope. “Sans, where are you going? I told you not to wander away. At least tell me where your-”

 

“I don't think this is gonna work out,” Sans said, his voice low and monotone, “Sorry.”

 

Papyrus froze. Lightning went off in his head.

 

Once again, the world became a more dangerous place.

 

Papyrus shook it off, running up to Sans again, who had pulled up his hoodie and was now moving faster, face staring at the ground, “What? What are you talking about? Sans stop walking and talk to me!” Papyrus demanded, grabbing Sans shoulder and pulling him to a halt, Papyrus getting down on his knees so that he could see Sans face under the hoodie, “Have you lost your mind? What are you talking about?”

 

“It was really nice meeting you,” Sans muttered, still very, very far away, “I really did have fun. I just think it might be better if we both see other people.”

 

More lightening. The world became a -very- dangerous place. Papyrus squeezed both of Sans arms, hard, as he practically growled, “See -who-?!”

 

“Me? No one. You, literally anyone else,” Sans chuckled, though he was wincing at the grip. “The experiment is done, Paps. What, a sword literally falling from the sky wasn't good enough for you?We're lucky we got off with just a warning...”

 

“Oh my god,” Papyrus did growl this time, releasing one of Sans arms to punch the bridge of his eyessockets, “The curse? Seriously, are we still talking about this!? There is no curse Sans! Accidents happen, and that's all this was! I wasn't even hurt!”

 

“But next time you will be!” Sans shouted, pushing Papyrus away, or at least trying too. Papyrus never lessened his other grip, though he did look incredibly hurt by the attempt to shake him off. Monsters around them were trying not to stare, with the exception of one or two who were simply trying not to be noticed as they recorded the incident with their phones, “Next time, the sword won't miss, or the branch won't miss, or you'll misjudge something, or you'll fall, and that's it! You'll be dust, and I'll have another fucking tally on my list! It's not worth it Papyrus! Let me go!”

 

“I won't let you go,” Papyrus said, his voice tight, his eyes glassy, “Sans how can you say this? I'm not going to let you walk away and ruin everything.”

 

Sans pulled at Papyrus's grip, trying to wrench his arm away, but the strong fingers wouldn't give. “Let go!”

 

“No!” Papyrus shouted, “Talk to me!”

 

Finally, a large monster who had been watching this exchange with increasing worry, stepped in, putting a large paw on Papyrus's shoulder, “Hey friend, I get it, but if the guy says to let him go, you gotta stop. Come on now.”

 

Lightning.

 

Papyrus looked up at the...he wasn't sure what kind of monster this monster was. But he was sure that he was top heavy, and that if Papyrus was quick he could get him on his back, and once they were on their back it was E F F O R T L E S S...

 

Papyrus closed his eyes. Took a cooling breath.

 

He let go of Sans arm.

 

Sans took a few staggering steps back, looking miserable and ashamed as the large monster gave Papyrus a supportive pat on the back before stepping back himself. “I'm...'m sorry paps...” Sans said quietly.

 

Then he teleported away.

 

-

 

The next three days were extremely difficult.

 

The first day Papyrus had come to knock on Sans door several times, and he would have kept at it all day, calling to Sans through the door, had work not forced him away, and then Flowey's advice pulled him away. The second day, though Papyrus was practically crawling up the walls with fear and anger at the situation, he kept away from Sans entirely, hoping that maybe if he gave him space then Sans would come to him instead.

 

The third day was Papyrus's day off, and so far he had spent it in the office, watching the monitors while twisting a small metal pipe between his fingers. He has specifically gotten the metal pipe because he found himself randomly breaking things in his grip, and at least with the metal, it would take a little more effort to do it, and it was no real loss if he did manage to break it. He couldn't even remember why he had originally bought it. Probably as a piece to build something with.

 

He wanted to hit something with it.

 

Anything.

 

Sans, in turn, was reading again. He had been doing that a lot the last three days. He hadn't been going to work at all. He looked disheveled and miserable, and seemed to be just struggling to distract himself with his books. Papyrus wondered what he was reading. He couldn't tell from the angle. He wondered if he should go over and knock on the door. Ask what Sans was reading. If Sans continued to refuse to answer him, maybe he should just use the metal pipe and beat down on the doorknob unti-

 

“Still haven't reconciled, huh?” Flowey asked. “You okay?”

 

Papyrus sighed, squeezed the pipe...and then began to cry.

 

“Aw, geez,” Flowey sighed, circling his vines around Papyrus, giving the guy a hug, “Would you stop that. A guardsman shouldn't be sitting up in his room crying just because his guy is spazzing out for a little while. Pull it together.”

 

“B-but,” Papyrus sobbed, “What if it’s not for a little while? What if it's forever? What have I done wrong, Flowey?”

 

“Nothing,” Flowey sighed, “Sans is just being an idiot. He'll get past this, you'll see. I really think you should just give him time.”

 

“That's what you said before, but I've given him time!” Papyrus said, getting up from the desk, Flowey disentangling himself quickly as Papyrus went to pace the room, “I've given him all this time and it hasn't helped! He can't be trusted to look after himself! Look at him! He's abandoned his job, I know he doesn't have enough for rent, he hasn't washed himself, he's eating a bunch of crap, I just...I can't...what am I going to do?”

 

“Papyrus, come on, a day and a half is not ‘time’,” Flowey sighed, “Look, you know I have your back. I really think this is temporary, but if it really does get that bad, we'll think of something. Have I let you down in, golly, what's it been now? A decade? Maybe a little more? How can you still doubt me by this point?”

 

Papyrus gave his friend a hard look, crossing his arms. “You've seen this before? Did you see this working out and come back to a previous SAVE, just to let me know it'd work out? Or are you guessing?”

 

Flowey sighed, rolling his eyes, “No, I haven’t been past this point this session. But I'm, like, a bajillion years old, basically. Just because I haven't seen this literal exact scenario yet, doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about. Have faith in me!”

 

Papyrus gave another hard look before allowing his features to soften, leaning down to pull Flowey into a gentle embrace, “I know you mean it,” Papyrus said, as Flowey just grumbled again, “And I love you Flowey. You've been like a brother to me!”

 

“You have a -really- weird concept of what brothers get up too, but okay.” Flowey muttered, “Go on.”

 

“But you're not always right. You're typically right,” Papyrus admitted, as he let Flowey go, “But not always, and I really feel like I need to be more aggressive about this right now. Though...” Papyrus hesitated, wringing his hands together, “If I mess it up irreversibly, you will-?”

 

“Tsk,” Flowey tsked, rolling his eyes, “Of course. You completely screw things up with Sans, and I'll go throw myself off Bend's Cliff, kay? But I'm going to be really annoyed if I gotta kill myself just because Sans finally notices what a stubborn asshole you can be sometimes.”

 

“Thank you...wait.” Papyrus said, looking up at the monitor, where Sans was getting himself together, “Where's he going?”

 

“If I had to guess? Grillby's.” Flowey said, “I'm surprised he hasn't gone sooner, honestly.”

 

“That's perfect!” Papyrus said, running around to put his own clothes on, “I'll intercept him at Grillby's! Buy him a meal. He'll have to talk to me then!”

 

“Sure,” Flowey said, digging his way back into the floorboards, “We'll see.”

 

-

 

“I broke up with him.” Sans finally said, staring at his ketchup bottle like maybe it was withholding some key secret on how to unfuck his life. “A couple of days ago.”

 

“............I know.” Grillby said, leaning against the counter. The bar was mostly empty that night, with the exception of one or two other monsters, and the fire-element was grateful for this. He hadn't seen his friend in awhile. He had worried. “........I saw the video.”

 

“There's a video?”

 

“.....you've gone viral, I'm afraid.” Grillby said, a touch of apology in his voice, “If it makes you feel any better, the comments have been largely sympathetic. You seemed very upset.”

 

Sans cupped his head into his arms, “He almost died, Grilbz. Right in front of me. A sword -impaled- him!And I just saw that and...I wouldn't forgive myself. How could I? I'd lose it if I killed him Grill.”

 

“...........Sans, none of those deaths were your fault. You've never killed anyone.” Grillby said sternly, placing a warm hand on Sans skull, “.....And, look, I know I haven't exactly been 'Team Papyrus', but-”

The front door burst open.

“Sans!”

‘....and shit like this,’ Grillby thought to himself saltily, watching his friend wince as the other skeleton practically ran into the room, ‘is why.’

“Grillby, please,” Sans whispered, “I don't want to talk to him. Is there anything you can do?”

 

“.............uh...........” Grillby straightened his back, watching the approaching guardsman warily, “.........I apologize Guardsman Papyrus, but I'm going to ask you to leave. I have a right to refuse costumers in the name of keeping the peace.”

 

Papyrus stopped and hesitated, looking around at the small spatter of patrons before crossing his arms. “Grillby, I hear what you're saying, and I respect your right to say it. However, in the name of love, I'm going to ignore it! If you really have a problem with me sitting with my partner, I encourage you to contact the guard...whenever they get back from their patrols through the mountain, which if I remember the schedule right, they should all be in the middle of right now.”

 

“..........that seems like a safety issue, now that you point that out.” Grillby said, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

 

“Indeed! I thought the exact same thing as soon as I said it out loud! I will talk to my fellow guardsman about fixing our patrol schedules to always have at least one guardsman on shift in town at all times first thing in the morning!” Papyrus promised, cackling out, “NYEHEHEHEH! Now seriously, Sans, please let me sit with you.”

 

Grillby looked over at Sans, concerned, “.....I can try to force it......”

 

“No, no, I'm sorry I asked you to do that, Grillby,” Sans sighed, taking a long swig of his ketchup, “Thanks for trying bud. I got this.”

 

Grillby nodded, backing up from the duo to focus on some other duties, though he kept one eye suspiciously on the two as Papyrus sat down next to Sans.

 

“Sans!” Papyrus said, smiling nervously as he sat down, noting the way Sans wasn't looking at him, “Hi! Hello! It's, uh...me! I'm...it has been a while, hasn't it?”

 

“Couple days.” Sans muttered, taking another long drink, “doin' a'ight?”

 

Papyrus sighed, noting also the increasingly garbled speech. Sans accent always came in heavier when he was trying to sound more detached from a situation. He had been doing that for as long as Papyrus had known him. Sans was trying real hard right now to keep things casual between them, which just meant that Papyrus had to work harder to break though this stone-wall. “No, Sans, I am not 'doing alright'.” Papyrus said, his voice low as he leaned in near his partner, “This is really unfair, you understand that, right? I just do not understand how you could do this to me. Don't you care at all?”

 

Sans winced, his head bowing lower. “'course I care.” Sans murmured back, “But if I had really cared, I'd have stopped this before it had ever started. I was weak, and I dragged you into this stupid relationship and...I just don't want to do it anymore, okay? You'll get over it.”

 

Papyrus's hands clenched into fists, “Don't try to tell me what I'll get over, Sans.” Papyrus said, his voice hard and angry, “I'm in love with you. I know you don't really feel the same way about me-”

 

“Papyru-”

 

“-no, no, you don't, and that's okay. You have a lot more...emotional weirdness going on then I do. That's okay! I can be patient. You'll feel the same someday. But for now, what you're doing to me, it's like torture! Do you know how much it hurts me, to be treated like this, when I've done absolutely nothing wrong?” Papyrus asked, his voice a low hiss, a fury over his gaze before it softened into a deep sadness as he sad, “Please, just stop doing this.”

 

“Paps, I'm sorry,” and Sans was. He felt wracked with guilt. Maybe he shouldn't do this. This wasn't fair to Papyrus, who had been nothing but amazing to him. Maybe Sans just needed to get over himself...no, no. He had to stay strong. He had made a choice. He had to stick to it! “I...I shouldn't have started this in the first place. I'm telling you, we're done.”

 

“We are not done!” Papyrus shouted, gaining the attention of everyone in the bar.

 

“...............” Grillby put down the glass he was cleaning, straightened his back, and went over to the dup, “Guardsman Papyrus, I have to insist you leave. Whatever is going on between you too, I will not allow you to stay here to harass my costumers.”

 

“I'm not harassing him!” Papyrus insisted, while Sans brought up his hood, thoroughly humiliated, “I'm just trying to talk to him!”

 

“.............” Grillby was not a violent person. But almost subconsciously, he felt himself starting to draw from his magical reserves, feeling the heat of the fire that was his hands burn brighter, “You are overstepping both his boundaries, and now mine. Leave my bar. I will not ask again.”

 

Papyrus stood to say something again, fury on his features, but Sans stood up, putting a hand on Papyrus's arm, “Sorry Grillby, we're going. Put my drinks on my tab, I'll pay them off tomorrow. Paps is gonna walk me home, okay? We're sorry, right Paps?”

 

Papyrus looked hard at the fire-elemental, who stared back at him, his expression unwavering. Papyrus's body then suddenly seemed to deflate, shame crossing his features as he rubbed the back of his neck, “yeah....sorry Grillby. Really. We'll go. Come on Sans.”

 

Grillby wanted to call back Sans...but couldn't. It wasn't his place, as much as his gut was screaming at him to do so. If Sans wanted to go talk to Papyrus, he wasn't going to stop him. But the next time he saw Sans, they were having a serious conversation about the other skeletons refusal to respect either of their requests for privacy that night. Sans didn't -owe- Papyrus his time, and both skeletons needed to be reminded of that.

 

Grillby took a calming breath, and went back to his work.

 

-

 

It wasn't exactly forbidden, but it was considered bad form to drink or eat human food out in public, and while this didn't stop Sans, he did feel self conscious about the act as he took another long sip of his ketchup. His head was at least starting to fog up though, which is all he wanted right now. Being sober for this conversation sounded like its own special sort of torture.

 

“You shouldn't treat Grilbz like that,” Sans finally said, as the two walked through the snow, “He's a good guy trying to look out for me. It really bothers me that you two seem to want to snap each others heads off everytime you're around each other.”

 

“It's not me!” Papyrus sputtered, looking back at the bar resentfully, “He doesn't like me. I don't know why. I'll...try to smooth things out with him later. I think what's happening between us might be a little more important.”

 

“There's nothing happening between us.” Sans muttered, kicking the snow, “I'm done. We're not doing this anymore.”

 

“Sans, has it occurred to you yet that you're being very immature about all of this?” Papyrus said, the two walking slowly, very slowly, as their house and lodge (shed) came to view, “Only children and idiots believe in superstition, and I'm almost certain you're not at least one of those.”

 

“Gee, thanks Pap.” Sans said dryly, “'preciate that.”

 

“Well, well!” Papyrus said, gasping at the air in frustration, “Well, what can you expect from me! I feel like we keep having this conversation over and over again! Every time I think we're past this curse bullshit-”

 

Sans eyes widened in surprise. “Woah, Paps-”

 

“-don't test me right now, Sans, I know what I said!” Papyrus said, the two now just outside of their respective homes, standing on the sidewalk as, above, a fresh burst of snow started to fall. “Every time we're past this, something brings it up again! The neighbors are watching us! My job is too dangerous! A sword impales me and pins me to the ground! When does it stop!!? When is the actual last time I get to stop having this stupid conversation with you!?”

 

“...dunno...” Sans said quietly, shrinking under Papyrus's furious gaze, “...sorry...”

 

As Papyrus took a steadying breath, he looked down at Sans, and realized he was going too far. Re-securing his scarf, he said, “Sans, come to my house. Let's...let's talk about this properly. And not out on the street like a couple of lunatics.”

 

Sans shoved the ketchup bottle, which was now empty, into a pocket on the inside of his parka, looking away from him, “I don't think that's a good idea.” Sans said, a touch of desperation in his tone as he added, “Paps I don't want to talk about this.”

 

“Well, if we can't talk about this at your shed, then we're just going to stand out here!” Papyrus said, giving pointed looks to the lit windows in the houses surrounding them, “Like crazy monsters! Because I'm not leaving this tonight! We're working this out. Now!”

 

And then, to prove how serious he was about this, Papyrus walked in a small circle three times, and then sat down in the snow.

 

“...geez Paps,” Sans sighed, looking over at the refuge of his lodge longingly...before also taking a seat in the snow. “We're going to catch our death out here.”

 

“We are skeletons, Sans,” Papyrus said, “More importantly, we are skeletons who dress for the weather! So long as this stupid conversation doesn't take the next, I don't know, three hours, we're fine. That's no excuse to go inside.”

 

“Yeah...” Sans said, balling up a bit of snow in front him as a pyramid, for no reason other then to do something with his hands, “I don't know what you want me to say.”

 

“Papyrus, I love you, I'm sorry for leaving you heartbroken for three days, and I promise never to let this curse nonsense ruin our relationship ever again!” Papyrus said, “Just say all of that, and then for good measure, say it again.”

 

“I can't,” Sans said, smushing the pyramid down. “I wouldn't mean it. It's too much in my head. I can't pretend I don't believe it.”

 

“...can't you though?” Papyrus asked, desperate. “Can't you just pretend? Whether you believe it or not, if you 'act' like it doesn't exist, then you'll have the same result as if you really believe it. You'd get to spend a long, happy life with...with me. Wouldn't that be worth it?” Papyrus gave Sans a pained smile, “Wouldn't I be worth it?”

 

Sans pulled his knees to his chest, “I wish you wouldn't say things like that. You make me think sometimes that it'd be life ending for you if I said no.”

 

Papyrus's eyes went wide with hurt, tears immediately filling them, “...wh...so...I wouldn't?”

 

“Oh god, Paps,” Sans groaned, hiding his face in his knees, struggling with that miserable feeling of guilt before saying, “The whole reason I can't say yes is -because- I care. I think, for real, that a curse exists that makes anyone with me die. So, if I cared about you, I wouldn't be with you. In that sense, yes, absolutely, you are worth....this.” Sans said, gesturing to the fact that they were now two lunatics sitting out in the yard in the snow.

 

Sans kicked at the snow a bit, getting more and more worked up before he said, the first real bit of anger in his voice, “So yes! You're worth it! You are worth the, the, the heartbreak, and the guilt, and the loneliness, and trust me, Paps, there's been plenty of all of that!...you're worth all of that! So...”

 

Sans rocked into his knees, his voice now thick and strained, “So, so I hope you're happy. With that.”

 

The two sat in silence, Sans stewing in a resentment he hadn't realized had been growing for the last few days, Papyrus somewhat deflated in the face of Sans anger.

 

“...sorry...” Sans finally said, “I shouldn't have yelled.”

 

“...” Papyrus wasn't sure what to say next. Sans seemed so certain of his mindset. So certain of all of it...his logic, as insane as it was, was sound within its own rules. Sans loved Papyrus. Sans believed whoever he loved died. So, to save him, Sans couldn't love Papyrus.

 

Not if he really did.

 

How do you argue against that?

 

Papyrus thought and thought. He thought furiously. He thought with love. He thought with lightning. 

He came to a conclusion.

It was a a half baked conclusion. Vague and scary. It was going to change everything, and probably not for the better. Not better then what they had before, anyway. He couldn’t explain what he was going to do. Papyrus, honestly, wasn’t even sure what he was thinking. But he knew, simplifies, what it felt like.

He was going to have to get ‘tougher’.

So finally he said, “Okay...okay Sans.”

 

“Okay?” Sans asked.

 

“Yes,” Papyrus said. He smiled. Tears were running down his face. “Yes, okay. So we can't be...together. Alright. Fine. I can...I can make that work. I'll think of something else.”

 

Sans grimaced at Papyrus's tears. Fuck. He really was the worst. “Paps, I don't know what you're saying.” Sans said, miserable. “Think of what?”

 

Papyrus wiped the tears from his face, smiling brightly at Sans, “I don't know yet. I need some time to think about it. But this is all going to work out, Sans. I just need to...” Papyrus nodded to some inner monologue in his head, smiling, before standing up, brushing some of the snow off of himself. “You know what I need to do? I need to finish off some errands that I've been putting off for too long, in fact, maybe some of those errands are why this has gotten as...out of hands as it has. And then, once I'm done, we can...we can work on you.”

 

“Paps.” Sans said, accepting Papyrus's hand up, “I still can't work out what you're trying to say bud. But I have a feeling I'm not actually getting through to you here.”

 

“No, no, I understand,” Papyrus said, looking down at Sans for a moment before kneeling down to pull him into a hug, which Sans warily accepted. “I do, I actually really get it this time. This conversation...it's not going away on its own. I've gotten too complacent these last few months. I forgot that anything worth having is worth working hard for!”

 

Papyrus released Sans, smiling down at the smaller skeleton. “So I'll work hard for you,” he said.

 

Thunder rolling in his soul.

 

-

 

He walked Sans to his door, and though Sans, several times, tried to get Papyrus to explain what he meant by...all of that, Papyrus couldn't be convinced to make himself any clearer. In the end, all Sans could work out was that Papyrus seemed utterly convinced he could fix all of this.

 

As Sans went to bed, he felt at least proud in the sense that he had stuck to his decision this time. Sure, Papyrus might be unwilling to accept it, but at least this time Sans hadn't allowed his guilt or desire to be with the other skeleton cloud his judgment. He had made a decision, and had stuck to it.

 

Hopefully, soon, that decision wouldn't leave him feeling like the scum of the earth, all of the time.

 

-

 

There was a knock at the door, even though the bar had been closed for twenty minutes now.

 

Because no one learns anything in this story, Grillby went to answer it.

 

When Grillby opened the door, he found he wasn't actually all that surprised to see Papyrus on the other side, looking nervous and a little shy as he held up a still somewhat steaming Tupperware of spaghetti, smiling as he somewhat stammered out, “S-sorry, I know, I know! It's late and you're closed and this is probably, well...this is me overstepping boundaries again, isn't it? I'm sorry.”

“............” Papyrus waited, “.........Guardsman Papyrus? No, no, it's okay, I'm still cleaning up. What can I help you with?”

“I...literally to say that.” Papyrus laughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he shifted from one foot to the other, “That I'm sorry. I've realized that...I've noticed...I can be a bit much. And I know that and I'm sorry and I'm just, so...bad at this!” Papyrus said, his voice rising a bit as he seemed to bristle at himself, “And maybe it would be better if we didn't talk, but you're Sans friend, and I'm his boyfriend, and I really just want us to be able to...gah!” Papyrus looked more and more flustered, before catching himself, looking slightly embarrassed as he continued, “And...I was hoping we could talk?”

If Grillby had the lung capacity to sigh, he would. Papyrus really did look miserable. And, frankly, Grillby didn't exactly feel great about their last interaction from his own end either. He had found himself thinking several times that day that perhaps he wasn't being fair; that maybe he was treating the skeletons transgressions more harshly then he ought to, simply because of a vague, 'bad feeling' about him. A dislike from an old memory that maybe Grillby hadn't ever even had. It had all gotten a bit foolish, hadn't it...

Grillby gave all the body language of sighing (because some things were easier to convey that way), before stepping aside, “Please,” he said, “Come on in.”

Papyrus beamed a thirty-watt smile, and then stepped inside.

 

-

 

When Sans woke up, he was honestly still a little drunk. It had taken a little while for the bottle that Sans had downed to catch up to him, but it had, and Sans had fell asleep a little dizzy and very sad.

 

He should have just stayed in bed.

 

But Sans was an idiot in those minutes between sleep and wakefulness, so he couldn't actually remember he was drunk, or that he was sad, or that he just didn't want to deal with the world any more that day, because damn, hadn't it already been a long, tough day?

 

So when he heard the sound of people moving way too fast in far too large of groups outside his shed, instead of turning over and going back to sleep, he dragged himself out of bed and went to the door, mindlessly curious about what the commotion was.

 

Monsters were running down the street. Some of them were holding blankets, other buckets of water. All of them looked concerned. Sans understood immediately why: you could hear it from his porch. The always surprisingly loud roar that was a true, wild fire.

 

Sans felt his adrenaline kick in, wiping some of the cloud that the human food had put him under as Sans teleported to the middle of the road, trying to get a better view of what was going on. The fire was down the street a bit. God he hoped it wasn't the hotel, fuck the rabbit family had like four kids living in that hotel right now, fuck fuck, oh FUCK!

 

“Grillby!” Sans shouted, using another two bursts of magic before he landed in the crowd outside of the raging inferno that was the towns bar. A few of the townsfolk were doing their best to create a water chain, but the fire was already too far along for it to do any real good. Mostly the only thing village had managed to do by this point was make sure the fire didn't spread to the buildings either side of it, but actually getting rid of the fire consuming Grillby's would be impossible without better supplies.

 

Sans wasn't aware that he was aware of all of this. It was a sort of background logic, working itself out in his head as he heard himself asking, “Is there anyone in there? Does anyone know!?”

 

Miss Rabbit, who was bringing up another bucket of water and handing it to Wolf to throw as the side of the house answered him, “The bar was closed when this started, I'm pretty sure. And Grillby would be immune to something like this, right? I...he's not out here though. Why wouldn't he have come out yet!?”

 

Sans got as close to the bar as he could before the heat started to hurt, before putting his hands around his mouth, shouting as loud as he could, “Grill! Grilbz, are you in there!?”

 

There was no answer for a moment. Then-

 

“Sans!?”

 

Sans felt his heart plummet to his feet. The marrow in his bones went cold. “Papyrus!?” Sans screamed, trying to step forward towards the crumbling front doors as a sudden new burst of flame exploded out of the ceiling, “Papyrus!?!”

 

“Sans, stop,” Doggo ordered, grabbing Sans shoulder and pulling him back from the reach of the flames, “Stand back, let guardsman handle this. Guardsman Papyrus, status!?”

 

“Bad! Very bad! The ceilings collapsed in front of the main exit and the back exit is too hot to approach!”

 

Then Lesser Dog showed up with Greater Dog, both of them carrying buckets as well. “Window!?” Lesser Dog barked out, the fear clearly in his voice as he called in to Papyrus, “Escape through window!?”

 

“I can't leave!” Papyrus called out, his voice only just getting through the scream of the flames, “I can't leave a citizen in danger! Grillby is unconscious and just...exploding!? Shots of fire keep...keep shooting from him! And his HP is plummeting! I think he's injured! I can't move him and he won't respond to anything!”

 

Ms. Bunny and her mother, Mrs. Bunny, came up, working together to carry a slightly larger bucket, which they handed to Greater Dog, who handed both of the buckets to Wolf before saying, grimly, “I go in.”

 

“Don't you fucking dare,” Doggo said, doing his best to glare at his unmoving guardsman, “The bits of you not covered in metal are covered in fur. You'll die in there. We need to wait for backup from Waterfall. The Captains on her way and she'll bring water-elementals with her, we just need to hold this down till she gets here! Papyrus, if you can't give aid to Grillby then get out of the building through the windows, that's an order!”

 

“I'm not just leaving him to die!”

 

“It won't help to die with him! Get out here!”

 

The Librarian was the next to show up to the front of the line with water, managing an impressively large bucket for such a slight man, a look of frightened determination on his face as he carried it over. Before he could get it to Wolf though, Sans went up to him, not even sure what he intended to do when he said, “Let me take it!”

 

The Librarian didn't question it, just giving him the bucket before heading back for the next load. It was heavy, but Sans could do it. Anything. Anything to help. He closed his eyes and concentrated, hoping, praying, that wherever he landed wouldn't be covered in flames...and jumped.

 

When he wasn't immediately engulfed in flames, Sans gave an inward cheer before opening his eyes, looking around the bar. “Papyrus!” He called out, “I have some water! I can keep going back and forth to...” Sans voice didn't stop full force. It just got quieter and quieter as his brain caught up to what he was seeing. Except it couldn't be what he was saying. Of course it couldn't be. He was...miss-seeing. Seeing wrong. This was wrong. This was...

 

Sans lost his trail of thought there as Papyrus finally looked up from his task, a large bone clenched in his fist, as at his feet a torn and beaten Grillby held his hands up, trying to shield his face from another blow.

 

“Oh,” Papyrus said, eerily calm, as if Sans had surprised him by appearing around some corner of the street, “Sans.”

 

“...........” a high pitched noise hissed out of Grillby, the sound of his voice almost impossible to hear among the din of the flames. It had never occurred to Sans before that this was what Grillby's voice sounded like. The roar of fire. Unless you were specifically listening for it, it was impossible to make out in the sound of the burning building. But Sans heard now, regardless, Grillby call out, “.....run!” As Grillby shot out another fireball from his hand towards Papyrus.

 

The shot was weak and wavering, Grillby clearly already spent, and Papyrus knocked the blast aside with his bone as if it were nothing. The ceiling exploded with the new blast, and Sans wanted to scream. Wanted to demand answers. But it was like he was frozen. Everything was happening too fast, and at the same time in slow motion.

 

Sans tried to move forward.

 

Papyrus, looking so...strange. So strange. Glanced at Sans and then just sorta seemed to dismiss him. His gaze was calm. There was no rage. No fear. He moved like a monster running an errand. Like Grillby was some chore that had to be dealt with as Papyrus raised his bone over the fire-elemental. Grillby, in turn, had put his arms up again, trying to lesson the blow that was coming down on him. But it didn't matter. Damage was damage. Monsters lives were tragically bound by their stats. His HP was already spent. Already down to its limits. And when the blow landed against him...

 

So much. There was so much Intent.

 

Grillby never stood a chance.

 

“No!” Sans screamed, and in his head it was a roar. In his mind the word was the loudest thing to ever be said by anyone, ever, because it echoed through his skull, tearing at his mind as, in echo, he and three others screamed. “No!”

 

Grillby practically exploded into dust.

 

The dust exploded against the force of the bone, and filled the air, a good portion of Grillby coating Papyrus's hands and chest. At this, finally, Papyrus's expression changed from that unnerving calm that had been on his face since Sans had teleported in.

 

A grace of a smile.

 

Pleasure at a job well done.

 

Oh god this couldn't be real.

 

At the smile, Sans finally found his words. Time seemed to speed up again. He looked at Papyrus, mad from fear and disbelief, and shouted “What ha-!”

 

He didn't get the chance to finish. Papyrus moved like lightening. How could he move so fast?! The larger skeleton moved from the bar to Sans spot in what seemed like mere seconds, and grabbed Sans, pulling Sans into his chest and holding his arms to his side with the whole of his right arm, and covering his mouth with his free hand. He held Sans close and whispered, “Shhhh.”

 

Sans could smell it. He could taste the dust between his teeth. His whole body shivered and spasmed in revulsion. He tried to scream. The scream was muffled against the weight of Papyrus's body, but violently shook through his own body. His soul was on fire. He felt sick with fever. His skull couldn't handle what he had just seen. What he had just tasted. His soul was on -fire-!

 

“Shhhh,” Papyrus said again, calm. So calm. Like this was nothing. Sans screamed. “Shhh, it's okay. We're gonna talk about this. Later. Flowey,” Papyrus said, seemingly to the air, “Could you take him home?”

 

At this, the floorboards started to shake. And then, erupting out of them, what seemed like half a dozen vines shot out, circling around Sans, trapping him in their grip as Papyrus casually passed him over, and then the vines pulled, and Sans went down, down, into the dirt, away from the fire, away from the noise, into darkness, and Sans screamed and screamed, and then one of the vines tightened, and for now, Sans stopped.

 

-

 

The world kept going, of course.

 

Cruel, persistent bitch.

 

-

 

The backup eventually arrived.

The fire was put out, though by that point, the damage had already been done. The building wasn't salvageable. Not that anyone was worried for the building. Theirs minds were focused on its two occupants, the village and the Guard all working together to safely move the debris as fast as they could.

 

To everyone's incredible relief, they found Guardsman Papyrus, trapped but otherwise safe between some ceiling debris and the bar counter.

 

To everyone's incredible sadness, he was sobbing. His body was curled around a pile of dust, as if he was trying to at least keep the dust separated from the growing pile of ash and ruin around him.

 

“I couldn't...” Papyrus sobbed to Undyne, who reached out to him sadly, empathetically, knowing first hand the grief that comes from the first time you tried, and failed, to save someone. “I couldn't do anything. I tried to heal him, but his HP wouldn't stop dropping. I couldn't...I didn't leave him to die alone. I couldn't -do- anything!” He wailed, as Undyne, careful to not tread on the dust pile too much, held Papyrus close to herself.

 

“I know,” she said quietly to him. “You tried. No one could have asked more. We're going to walk out of here, and you can cry, but keep your back straight. Your head up. The people out there are looking at us to be strong. We need to go tell them what's happened. Can you stand?”

 

Papyrus nodded, though for a moment he looked as if he might fall apart. But then his eyes went hard, and he nodded again, straightening his posture. “Y-yes.” He said, “I can.”

 

“I'm so proud of you.” Undyne said, hoisting him up by his arm, and then keeping her hands on him, in case he needed steadying. He didn't, and her pride swelled. “You did all you could. His family will take comfort to know he wasn't left to die alone. You did amazing, Papyrus.”

 

“Thank you.” Papyrus said, following her over the debris and out of the bar. He didn't feel proud, though. He felt frustrated. He was mad at himself.

 

He had gotten the work done, but he had messed up.

 

What on earth was he going to do about Sans?

 

-

 

Sans slept. But a long time ago, and also now, things happened.

 

_Around him, light as air, fine as dust, things shifted._

 

In Waterfall, an old monster sat his young charge down, and showed him a display of drawings he had put on the ground.

 

“It's a very old, instinctive, but powerful form of magic,” the tortoise explained, “that we called 'Dust Magic', because by god, us monster don't mess around when it comes to naming things.”

 

His young charge laughed good-naturedly at this, before asking amicably, “So, what exactly does that mean?”

 

_An entity...woke up. Or, was born. Or, continued to exist, but altered. Lessened. Expanded. Depending on how you thought about it. It was, and then quickly noticed that, whatever it was, it wasn't alone. It began to speak._

_…..........._

_By mere habit, this process took awhile. The others waited patiently._

 

“Has anyone ever explained the concept of 'genetic memories' to you?” the tortoise asked the young goat. When the goat shook his head, the tortoise went on, “Shame, that would have made this simple. Basically, its this idea that families could potentially pass on a sort of 'innate' knowledge to their offspring. So that instead of being a wee babe who knows nothing 'bout nothing, you could benefit from generations worth of acquired skills and knowledge. So, if your great grandfather was a master swordsman, you'd end up knowing at least a little something about it yourself, or at least have a natural talent for it, based on those genetic memories.”

 

“Right,” the goat said, “Sounds fake, but okay.”

 

“Don't you start sassing me now, boy,” the old monster scolded, giving the young boy a small pinch on his ear, who simply giggled at this before apologizing. “But, you're right. It is mostly fake. But that's kind of what dust magic is. Just with more steps and, unfortunately, a lot of limitations.”

 

_….........what has happened._

_…...............................Did he escape?_

_I'm so sorry_

_You tried your best, friend._

_(It was a noble effort.)_

 

“Okay. Like what kind of limitations, sir?” the young goat asked, realizing after a moment that the older monster was drawing out a scene of war in the dirt. He could recognize the army of humans on one side, and what seemed like a bunch of specific kind of monsters on the other. Rarer kinds.

 

“Let’s start with the steps, that's easier to explain. There's only two.” The old man finished with his scene, resting the stick against his knees now as he settled in to explain, “The first step is that the monsters dust has to be on you for a little while. At least three minutes. It doesn't matter what part of you, we just do it to the forehead out of ceremony. But it has to have time to settle on you. Step two, even simpler: the monster had to care about you. You, individually. You can't just pick up any random monsters dust and cover yourself with it for the benefits, it had to be something the other monster wanted. Contact and love. Those are the steps.”

 

_…....I do not understand. I.....have I died?_

_Yeah._

_It happened so fast_

_(I am sorry. You have been a friend for a long time. We wanted to help)_

_….....who are you?_

_(his protection)_

_His suspicion._

_His intention. But, uh, we know that's not what you mean. We're no one, really, not anymore. The sense of who you were leaves, over time_

_(you become an extension of him. A consciousness, but with a world view limited to him and what he needs from you.)_

_It's kind of the whole fucking point of us, honestly. Otherwise we're just echoes of long dead assholes._

_Ghosts_

_(karma)_

 

“Now, those steps used to be common knowledge,” the old monster continued, “The sort of thing you learned in school. But, a lot of our history got lost when we were banished, and all of us folks old enough to remember it decided it might be best for that sort of thing to not be common knowledge anymore.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because of the war,” the Tortoise said, his voice dry and bitter, “Because of how desperate it made us. I'm not sure it's really possible to convey how close monsterkind came to full on extinction. There were a lot of monster races that were common above ground that you can't find in the Underground. Entire regions, whole family bloodlines, wiped out. Gone. My prince, it's important for you, more then any young monster, to understand that it had barely been a war at all. We fought not to win. Winning was impossible. We fought to slow down the slaughter as much as we could while our King and Queen tried desperately to reach out the human leaders to organize a surrender in time to save at least some of us. That is what our 'war' was. And because of this, when certain monster towns and villages heard that the front line invasion would reach their own town soon, the families that lived there knew that they were essentially on their own, as the fact that the invasion had gotten to them meant that all of the defenses that had been put between them and the humans were gone. So, they had to make some....terrible choices.”

 

The prince said nothing to this, waiting patiently as his teacher took a moment to catch his breath, which had grown thick from memory.

 

After this moment, he went on, “Evacuation wouldn't work. The humans were relentless, and moving whole families of monsters was too slow. No, evacuations couldn't work, not if everyone tried to leave. So families found themselves in the position of choosing three roles for their members, all with the purpose of having at least one or two survive. Defenders, runners, and sacrifices. Often families only had a few hours worth of warning before the humans would arrive. I don't know how all the other hit towns handled their choosing, but with mine...” The Tortoise closed his eyes. He sighed. “There was thirty of us, maybe one or two more. Five of us were chosen to live. Thee runners, young reptiles just old enough to be counted on to survive on their own, but young enough that none of the adults could bring themselves to pick anyone else, not when so many children were already doomed. Two of us were chosen to be defenders, me and my sister, Shelly. We were young and strong, with fighting experience already. Our jobs were to go with the runners as long as we could, but to hold the humans back when they inevitably caught up. Give the runners their best chance.”

 

“And...the sacrifices?” The prince asked, his voice quiet. Afraid.

 

“...the village all got in this big circle, around me and my sister. One by one, they came to us, sometimes first to me, sometimes first to my sister. Held our hands. Said our names, over and over again. They said things like...'I care about you because of what you represent', or, 'I care about you because you are our future'.”

 

They said 'I'm proud of you, son,' the tortoise couldn't bring himself to say.

 

They said, 'Don't forget me, big brother.'

 

“and then, once they were certain they had the feeling inside of them that they needed...”

 

Lines. Lines of monsters.

 

The dust choked the air.

 

“I understand,” the young goat said, his voice shaking, “Please don't say it. I understand. Wow...I can see why you might not want monsters to have a reason to do that.”

 

“Yes. Though, that wasn't the only reason we didn't want monsters to know. In the end, for all the suffering we went through, it still barely saved anyway, and dust magic proved itself to do more harm then good. Those 'limitations' I mention. There's costs to using it.”

 

“Like what?”

 

_…........I want to kill him._

_(Please. Patience. We cannot push.)_

_…....why not? I can feel your power. Mine. His. We could do it! He needs to be stopped! He needs to be punished!_

_Buddy, don't you think we fucking know it?_

_We cannot push. We must protect Sans. It is our purpose_

_…....this is protection!? Sans has been haunted by this creature since -childhood-! We must act!_

_(we will. If we can. We have to wait)_

_Sans has to make the choice to do it first. If we make him, try to force the fucking idea in his head..._

_The entity felt a memory suddenly shared with it from one of the others. The memory was clear, as if he was living it. The fall had just happened. Sans had acquired his first host. His first bit of karma. And that Karma was angry. Grief stricken. It wanted Sans to know what had happened. To protect himself. To get revenge. In frustration, the entity tried to force the knowledge into Sans head...and stopped when Sans screamed._

_And with this memory, only then, could the newest entity see it, littered all over the inside of Sans soul._

_Cuts. Scars. Red and oozing, never quite healing, doing irreparable harm to Sans soul. His magic. His psyche._

_All over him. Tears._

_(we have tried our best, but it is so hard...to not cut him.)_

_To not tear._

_To not harm_

_Because..._

 

“Using dust magic changes the monster wielding it.” the Tortoise explained, “Physically, mentally. The whole shebang. Using dust magic gives you access to the memories and abilities of the monster who has gifted their dust to you. In many ways it’s almost like having those monsters fighting by your side. Some dust magic is so powerful that the dust fighting even gets its own turn in battle, attacking while the opponent is still setting up. It can be incredible!”

 

The Tortoise smiled at some old memory, before looking down at his own hands and frowning. “But the consequences are serious. For one, the limitation is that the dust only activates when you yourself have to be face to face with certain doom, so to use it on purpose you literally have to throw yourself into mortal danger. Not fun. And for two, once its activated, aspects of those monsters who dust you use bleed into you, and you...bleed out. Parts of you gets erased by their influence. The monster you are by the time the process is done is not the same monster you started as. In some ways, for the original version of you, it...might as well be a death sentence. You just disappear, replaced by this...mesh of other monsters.”

 

“Did that happen to you?”

 

“...I think it would be more accurate to say it happened to the monster that I was.” the old monster said, after considering it carefully, “After enough time goes by you get so used to the changes that they don't feel like separate parts of you anymore, it's just all...you. But I remember the terror I felt in the beginning, my mind flooding with thoughts and memories and ambitions that were wholly separate from me. Suddenly I knew all sorts of things that I had never learned. I had vendettas against people I had never met, and loved, desperately, monsters I would never meet, because they had died years before I was even born, the spouse of one of the dusts lending me their ability to hold a spear really well, or was the brother of a monster who knew an interesting fact about shopkeeps, or the daughter of a mapmaker who knew the area better then anyone. One by one these monsters bled into and replaced significant pieces of me.”

 

The old tortoise looked down at the picture of his war scene. At the tortoise fighter. At the bear who had only managed to save a few of their surviving family. At the young reindeer monster who had begged his family not to do it, and screamed as they did it anyway, dusting one by one. At the skeletons, for whom only one had survived, just barely bringing his race back from the brink of extinction. At the poor imps and the brave goblins, whom despite their best efforts and sacrifice, none of whom had made it to the end of the war, dust magic be damned.

 

After a moment, he wiped the image from the ground.

 

“After all this time, I couldn't tell you what parts of me I lost anymore.” he said, “But I can say...I'd think long and hard before I'd ever do it again. It is not an easy experience.”

 

_(We must be patient.)_

_We can't tear him._

_We mustn't hurt him_

_(We are a last resort. Life or death.)_

_….................................I understand, the entity said._

 

“I understand,” said the prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbc
> 
> (Update: It might be a little longer then I'd like before the next update. Real life stuff, ya know how it goes.)


End file.
